Ireland

Velvety soft petals of three or four, basking in the richness of emerald green Through legends spoken I've heard before, yet, in a valley I have never seen. A rainbow arches across the sky, at it's very end the mystical pot o gold I've wondered where the riches lie, at the end the colors bright and bold Little men, shillelagh in hand, with bearded face and rosy nose this fellow from a magical land, how quickly that, he comes and goes With Pubs with taps of stoutly ale, where the Gaelic music plays you can hear a very hearty tale, of the simple Irish ways Someday, I'll travel to the Isle, to the land of Emerald Green like a Leprechaun, with wink and smile, that's where I'd like to be