Long Leprechaun Poems
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Listen to my tale of a leprechaun named Dave,
a wee folk from Ireland, that I caught in a cave.
Dave's mostly a happy-go-lucky kind of guy,
but he's afraid of large birds, like hawks in the sky.
Irish country folks loved to leave Dave food and drink,
and when telling tall tales of pots of gold; they'd wink.
One day Dave was out polishing his coins of gold
when a north wind made him seek shelter from the cold.
And he hid in a magic cave that took him to
another cave, in America, that he knew.
And that is where I saw him and blocked his way out,
with a picture of hawks I found lying about.
And so, unable to catch the next rainbow home,
he magically turned into a garden gnome.
And now, Dave stands in my garden both night and day,
and to tell the truth, I hope he decides to stay.
(Nursery Rhyme)
4/11/2021
Nursery Rhyme 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
I am a sprite pixie lost in the vast plain of tomorrow
Plain simple and impish and easy to find in my sorrow
A true spirit I am adrift in a snow storm void of the needle
To find my home at the North Pole no compass to twiddle
At the food bank they gave me a parcel but no directions
Sustenance surely but I miss my family’s loving affection
For what it is worth I never harmed any other creature
But my phone has no apps and no navigation feature
All powerful Santa would you look out for me twee one
On your travels from chimneys to i-clouds under the sun
I need no other presents because goblins are quite eerie
Without companions and sat nav though its freezing dreary
Send me a dolphin or peace dove or leprechaun rocket
I’ll pay you back in kindness so you won’t be out of pocket
Next year when short of a reindeer for all those good parcels
This elf will help you but for now I must get to my fairy castle
I am sending this registered letter with no return address
But the world is a global village and you have internet access
I am a dot on google maps with harlequin bells and quite sound
Of mind bar its memory and will sing Silent Night once I’m found
For more entertainment I can pirouette and dance like a dragon
So you won’t need bluetooth once we share a ride in your wagon
I am an involuntary migrant so help me rejoin with my sweet troll
Foreigners these days are so easily deported by border control
12th December 2019
On an isle of emerald where one can dream
A storm brewed acting like a fiend
Kicking out a rainbow and leprechaun holding four clovers made in green
“We are tired of these fakes who are as ugly as snakes,”
The villagers wanted the visitor to know
About dealing with their foe,
And this little fellow not having any connection to the fever of yellow
Listened to them about this plight and gave them some ammunition to fight.
“I do have a pot of money,
That can make you warm like a day that was sunny.
A temporary fix to the ugly snakes tricks,
You see it is not riches or miracle from God
That can handle this Saintly job,
Dealing with the truth peacefully without hitting the roof
Is the strategy
Honoring holier St. Paddy,
When you leave the pub
On this Saint Paddy’s day that was a dud.
It is the honesty that will stay
For the merriment that by strict definition has relations with the three lettered word ‘gay’
Tell the ugly snakes to find another place then build your case,
Doing what it takes using noble integrity to drive the deadly stakes.”
When urinating into the toilet bowl...
yours truly (me) could not help but notice
while living social at various residences
within Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
the following described phenomena
actually observed quite some time ago
maybe back during
my carefree boyhood days of yore
that the uncontrollable spurt
analogous to a golden arch
of micturition arcing
toward parts unknown
(frequently missing the target altogether,
and wetting the seat
subsequently displeasing the next person
more often than not the missus,
who sits upon wet porcelain goddess)
initially issuing from out
my diminutive male member,
(even when fully erect,
no longer than
a small walking stick
for a lucky leprechaun),
when said jet stream
makes splashy contact
affecting fountainhead into pissoir,
whereby a bathroom
tchotchke of Atlas shrugged,
which non verbal reaction spoke volumes,
the direction water got flushed within potty
subsequently clearly described
a clockwise pattern
whooshing within the labyrinth
eventually getting routed
to wastewater treatment plant
at least here within the bowels
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
Actually even after flushing,
or using the sink to wash hands,
the water also drained
mimicking rotation of second
or minute hands of analog time pieces.
After finding myself
flush with excitement
presuming I discovered
some great earth shaking revelation,
a Google search quickly
and immediately chastened
premature ejaculation of excitement
that yours truly stumbled
upon magnificent phenomena
and matter of factly explained
the direction a toilet flushes,
whether clockwise or counterclockwise,
primarily determined
by the design of the toilet bowl
and the water jet's direction,
not by the Earth's rotation
(Coriolis force), which often mistakenly
believed to be the cause;
meaning the flush direction
can vary even within the same hemisphere
due to different toilet designs,
not necessarily consistent
with the "clockwise
in the Northern Hemisphere" myth.
Beneath the emerald hills they hide,
Where shadows stretch and secrets bide,
The leprechauns with hats so green,
Dance where only dreams are seen.
They laugh and twirl in moonlit glow,
Their golden coins they softly throw.
A wink, a jig, a merry sound,
A hidden treasure underground.
With mischief in their sparkling eyes,
They hide their wealth where magic lies.
A rainbow leads, but none can trace,
The leprechauns’ elusive grace.
They’ll grant you wishes, if you’re true,
But catch them first—that’s up to you!
For they’re as quick as the morning breeze,
Vanishing with a soft “please, please!”
So search the hills and wildflower glens,
But know that the dance never ends.
The leprechauns are ever near,
Whispering laughter we can’t quite hear.
Spellbinding place where rainbow water flows
Frogspawn and tadpoles such enormous change
Arcadian forest where pixie dust blows
All creatures are welcome no one estranged.
Twilight is magical what will happen?
Atmosphere filled with dire baritone croak
Whispering rustle, low-lying bracken
Fae folk appear under red velvet cloak.
Fireflies lighting wonderful oasis
Elderly toad croaks musical score
Pompous owl tries to intimidate
Proud of position he is the law.
Beetles scurrying they are so anxious
Happy invitation it's party time
Cantankerous bees prickly as cactus
Covered in honey they buzz "all mine".
Terrapin plays music on his bassoon
Boisterous sound that creatures adore
Leprechaun baked magical mushroom
Mesmeric food eaten they all chant more!
Pixabay image by Sandra_Schoen
Clear skies, children’s laughter, old lawn chairs line the street, people wearing giant shamrocks,
Leprechaun leggings, rainbow shirts, fluffy green skirts trimmed in white lace, the smell of ham hocks.
Excitement mounts, people crane their necks, for a glimpse of beautiful Irish Day queen.
Familiar to all, because she works at the store; her glorious smile serene.
She’s waving a gentle hand; she mouths something to me, mommy, yet part of the flock.
I smile with pride, at my daughter, with her brown breezy tresses, her happy ways.
Her eyes are snapping with gladness; she’ll remember this until the end of her days.
As she glides past me, smile big as Texas, on a giant St. Patty’s day float,
The mom in me grins like a deranged dog, I am valiantly trying not to gloat.
“The queen is my daughter,” my husband yells, so I look at him with all kinds of craze.
“What he asks me?” innocently, a completely, utterly unknowing manner.
“They all know we’re her parents,” I say, nodding hello to my 80 plus Grand-mere.
“Colleen! Colleen!” She yells; with the bellow of a bleeding goat whose life can’t be saved.
Although the float is practically out of sight, my daughter hears, turns; and gaily waved.
The children are chasing the float now, because when turning she lost her queen banner.
“Have they started throwing the candy?” My wildly untamable grandma demands.
“Six tons of it,” my husband teases her. “Here come the performing marching bands!”
The first band’s showy with sparkly rhinestones hats that came off their head in a whirl.
The next band is dressed in yellow shirts, every two seconds they complete a twirl.
Children are dashing into the street for candies now; yes, the day was grand!
I was walking in the woods near our
vacation cabin.
And to my surprise I saw a pot of gold.
I wondered to myself where could it lead?
To my amazement I saw the most beautiful
rainbow in the world, in the distance.
It had a mesmerizing and hypnotic allure.
All of a sudden I heard movement in the
bushes.
I couldn't believe what a I beheld next.
I saw a dozen leprechauns.
I blinked but they didn't disappear.
They were still there . The littlest one
said” What's the matter ladd? Haven't
thine eyes seen a leprechaun before?”
I said” No, I thought you all were just
a myth and make believe.”
“ Well you found me gold and it's yurs.
Bet all will believe you now.”
I turned to look at my big pot of gold
and I turned back to tell them thank you.
But they all had vanished.
That happened many moons ago and
although I told my whole town about the
gold. I was labeled the town fruitcake.
They said some pirates must have
misplaced their gold. I often said if that's
the case how you can explain the “pot”.
They said a treasure is a treasure.
10-8-18
Contest: Fictional Write
Sponsor: Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
I got slapped in the face today
By an exuberant foot, no wait, maybe both to them.
They had on fluffy socks, so that part I recognized.
I had forgotten they could reach my face though.
The leprechaun had not granted my wish to be taller
Until last night around midnight.
Was that my feet? I screamed with delight.
I was crazy-happy.
I had never been six foot four before.
My feet laughed.
What?
He gave me feet with faces?
We are walking around the kitchen now
And they are making fun of the difficulty I am having
Not looking at them when I.
Damn!
I keep falling over.
It is hilarious, but also nerve-wracking to
Go from five foot two and a half, AND
have talking spitting, snarling teeth who are
Chasing the dog and the cat around the kitchen
While they are laughing and shrieking
Two different conversations.
Where are those damned socks?
I think it is time to put them back on.
is there room for the Irish in the good ole USA?
room for the hanging of the greens, Hennessey O’Shay?
we will hang this flag over our tavern on Tuesday.
Irish parade will come by and leave a bit of Celtic our way.
will Father O’Leary listen to the confessions of Stephen and Clay?
will there be a mad dash to the Blarney Stone with a tiny sashay?
believe the hanging of the greens might be here to stay.
is corn beef and cabbage on the menu for Tuesday?
merry and gay, we will dance a lively jig, and Pat's pied piper will play.
famous leprechaun will disappear, with his crock of gold, far away.
paddy mcCullough, is there room for the Irish in the good ole USA?
we will know more on Tuesday during the St. Patty’s day soiree.