St. Patrick’s Day is a fine day for congregatin’,
And for wearin’ o' the Erin go Brach green
We’re all at our local Irish pub celebratin’,
Doing some damage to our proud Irish spleen!
Written March 17, 2022
Mein Frühling brach sich die Hände,
der Zauberer in mir will mir nicht begegnen,
mein Verdacht ist ohne Wunsch zu leben,
wie sehr bereut sich mir mein eigenes Herz?
Wie ein Herbstblatt mit seiner Farbe,
es einem Feuer gleicht, doch sich nicht entzünden kann,
wird mein Tag wieder mit mir sprechen,
wer schließt mich auf´s Neue auf?
Oh Ireland make us proud
As we salute the tricolour
To defend thee we have vowed
May your rivers run free once more
Oh Ireland we love you
And we will not fail you
Ireland we will be true
We will set you free or die trying
We will stand strong and tall, oh Ireland
For you have been good to us
We will stand by you forever
For Éirinn go brách!
A pebble makes ripples
A ripple makes waves
A wave overtakes you
And ushers in a new age
And a thoughstream
Of my creation
Creeps onto the page
Is the end beginning
Or the beginning just arriving
Am I dead to the world now
Just merely surviving
On the event horizon
The prophecy unfolds
Mysticism of the Gnostics
Never grows too old
To relate to today
As the age is now turning
In the blaze unconsuming
The big bush still burning
Dragon God Quetzalcoatl
Your feathers of gold
Spread your scaly wings now
As the ways of the old
Are surfacing once again
As the Mayans are arriving
On a spaceship of lightning
The so called Satan
Is every ounce of wisdom
The oligarchs hide wisely
Only the open
Can restore hope
The fate of our future
Dangles from the rope
Of a brach on the
Tree of life
a bird siting on a tree brach minding itsown
bissness singing and humming to its own.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.