Irish Illusion
Leprechaun?
...
Deep in the forest, near the old Castle Clare
There rose such a chorus, of insect delight
With frogs croaking alto, and crickets, in pairs
Soothing my ears in the cool midnight air
From the slate cottage steps, I would sit to reflect
how the world was so vast, and me a mere speck
As I searched through the dark, on the ways of the world
I could hear something rustle, and the shrubs were disturbed
From out of shadows, with a shoemaker's guile
Conceited, and not the faintest of smiles
A figure, quite dapper, wearing a coat of bright green
He vanishes, quickly, back over the stile
So quickly it happened, a flash before eyes
With cunning in mind, he chanced to reveal
So startled, I was, with a shock of surprise
That even the frogs, and crickets had stilled
Then fled to the hallow, to a bright golden kettle
Enticing me then, to follow him there
Was it figment? Imagination? I question my mettle
With goose-bumps, I'm covered, with fast rising hairs!
Out in the forest, the crickets in chorus
Return to their singing, but humming quite cautious
The frogs barely croaking,
Each croak seems evoking
the same trepidation, and adds more suspicion
Perchance this encounter, was pure superstition ...
Will he wander back, will I be redeemed? .....or
Perchance, I dozed off. Was it only a dream?
…..
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Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011
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