Long Leprechauns Poems

Long Leprechauns Poems. Below are the most popular long Leprechauns by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leprechauns poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Saint Patrick Day Leprechaun

Dragon sat in the bushes all night long, for he wanted to catch himself a Leprechaun.
See Leprechauns have gold by the buckets full, and Dragon wanted himself… some.
So our sly little Dragon had put a lit up rainbow, on our garage door, to be cast on…
St. Patrick’s Day was in the morning, and he wanted some of those golden charms.

He’d read: You gotta get up, so very early, to be able, to even a little, trick those guys.
For those wily Leprechauns are the cleverest critters, which were ever seen… to arise.
So Dragon had dressed up in the Irish green, topped with a cute little Leprechaun hat.
You see, Dragon believed he was, the slyest thing, put on this earth, here… ever… yet.

Sure enough, at the break of dawn… a Leprechaun came snooping, stealthily around.
Strangely, he looked about 3 years old, the same age of our Dragon, or there, around.
They hit it off immediately, with so much in common, at that tender age and time.
Finally together, they dug up the pot of gold, which the Leprechaun’s magic did rise.

They had decided to share the wealth, of any gold, they did hope to some how find
But darn, the Leprechaun was unhappy, at the small amount of gold before his eyes.
He swore our Dragon had dug it up early, and already taken his own share… after all…
Dragons were known to be the greediest things ever put on this earth, he did recall.

Yes, he’d seen thru Dragons disguise, and had seen the wily-ness of it all… so true… 
So the Leprechaun threw a crying hissy fit, the likes of which Dragon had never knew.
He raged on and on, how his new best friend could ever think to cheat him, Boo Hoo!
Now, Dragon began to feel very guilty for what he had originally, truly, wanted to do.

So in the end he gave it all away, to his newest best friend, who left without an adieu.
At that our dear little Dragon, felt proud for what he had finally achieved and done.
That is until he looked at his own little bitty horde of gold… that was suddenly gone!
Yep the little Leprechaun, had stolen it fast away! With his magic he had transferred…

Dragons gold to the Leprechauns beloved pot! Now Dragon became enflamed at it all!
At what the Leprechaun had done… Until Grandpa Troll reminded him with the moral:
Don’t be surprised… if you get burned… when you play with fire, my little friend!
The End!

Written 3-17-2017


Premium Member The Morning of the Hurricanes Part 1

The Bishops bathe in Babylon
while Princes, prancing on the lawn,
watch Queen deflowered, pale and wan.
            The King dares not defend her.
The Horsemen, holding broken reins
the Morning of the Hurricanes,
sigh “it’s no use, it’s all in vain,
            the Saints will soon surrender”.
They wonder why they ever came,
they have No One whom they can blame,
they have no face, they have no name,
            and even less, a gender.

The empty-handed Vagabonds
smoke stale cigars, stroke faded Blondes
while waiting at the walls beyond,
            but kneel as Chaos enters.
They’re gazing through the window panes
in hopes that distant Hurricanes
will twist and break their iron chains
           defying life’s tormentors.
The Fantom of the Opera frowns
as feeble minded Cleric-clowns
mouth hollow hurdy-gurdy sounds
           when blessing doomed dissenters.

The Pirate wields a wooden leg,
with pupils dull and visage vague,
and if by chance he spreads the plague,
	it really doesn’t matter.
His Princess, pale, no longer feigns,
foresees instead (down ancient lanes)
the coming of the Hurricanes -
            the Stones stir, staring at her.
And Jackals scrape the river bed 
as Savants soothe the underfed
and Crows, collecting scattered bread,
            adorn, with crumbs, the platter.

The Jokers Wild and One Eyed Janes
weep, winding up in rundown trains
mid whispers of the Hurricanes,
            and Priests refuse to christen.
They’re fleeing from the Leprechauns,
the cuckoo birds, the dying swans;
while pitching pennies into ponds
            their eyes opaquely glisten.
The spectral Clocks with spindled spokes
remind the Mimes to tell the  Folks
the time of day and other jokes,
            yet No One looks to listen.

The Hunchbacks with contorted canes
galumph before the Hurricanes, 
in melted sleet, in frozen rains,
            in bruised and battered sandals.
Their Groans engulf the land of gulls,
the land of stones, the land of nulls,
and lurk between the blackened lulls, 
            for Nighttime brooks no candles.
Their prayers to Dogs and Nuns and Dukes,
(and other long forgotten Spooks)
are more than random crazed rebukes,
            though taunting to the Vandals.



 Continued in Part 2
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Looking For Elvis

While looking for Elvis
Met Nessie in Loch Ness
Hoarding a leprechauns pot of gold

While getting ready to depart
I tripped over the Lost Ark
In the baggage of a hitchhiking Pharaoh

Thought I had got lost in flight
Stumble into Camelot at night
King Arthur shooting Robin Hood's arrows

Little green men from Mars
Battling a dragon with bumper cars
Jumping on my unicorn I rode

Diving into the Ocean
The mermaids gave me notions
My search for Elvis was getting cold

Swam down to Atlantis in the Atlantic
Dine at Poseidon's banquet
He had a big Roman nose

Cruising the Devil's Triangle
Being careful for any angle
I try to assassinate Castro

No money for the Florida toll booth
I wander into the Flountain of Youth
I look much younger so I'm told

On my way to Colorado
I kiss the Indian Princess of El Dorado
They can keep their entire treasure load

I saw Jimmy Hoffa eating a hot dog
While sitting with Big Foot on a redwood log
They were both getting pretty old

Went over to Memphis
Back through Las Vegas
My search for Elvis was about to fold

Than an angel named Gabriel
Told me about the new guy down at the stable
So I flew off to Shangri-la with pilot Joe

Our wings iced without warning
Damn this damn Global warming
Flying over Santa and a Chinese Viking Eskimo

We crashed landed in Xanadu
Met a few people we both knew
But Elvis left so I was told

With my new friend Yeti
We shared a big bowl of spaghetti
Amelia Earhart cooked and sold

Round the Garden of Eden
I traded an apple for freedom
From the lost tribes of Isreal though

On Mount Olympus I heard singing
The voice of Elvis reigning
I found the King of Rock and Roll

We ate a fried banana peanut butter sandwich
Elvis offer me the last bite of his sandwich
I politely refused I couldn't be so bold

Before I could ask Elvis as such
He rose and said "Thank you very much"
The answers I needed were put on hold

"Beam me up Scottie" he quipped
Than in a flash he was on the Mother Ship
And I turn and saw my friend little Moe

Area 51 is where that saucer came from
In Noah's Ark we drank wine and hard rum
Finding Elvis I am no hero

Looking for Elvis is half the fun
Its the trip that ends where it begun
Down in Dallas on a grassy knoll
Form: Rhyme

Bonanza of shamrocks will soon blanket Green Acres

Bonanza of shamrocks will soon blanket Green Acres...
where Lassie free to run across petco junction 

All across the webbed
wide esse Scott's landed wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold
wishes if captured might
divulge pot of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,

thence tread softly beneath subthreshold
of audibility, cuz unseen universe
hapts tubby microscopically rolled
with subterranean inhabited by Lilliputian
mischievous impish beings 
(about bajillion holed
up could fill the Taj Mahal) even donned with
heavy coat protecting them
(usually men) against cold
yet frolic with reel delight jiggling

with inborn instinct exhibit twofold
talent to dance with modesty
downplaying (while fiddling)
analogous to some roof fiend
averse tubby extolled,
nonetheless, their popular
doth soar, and grievously scold
persistent myth anchored with toehold,
and thus do not indulge
pruriently with pixies considerably dulled,

since libido practically nonexistent told
me (under oath of
confidentiality), one Grunwald
trusted yours truly, the secrete
will not leak out,
nor spread like slime mold,
this descendant of Lemuel Gulliver
who schleps across the webbed wide wold.

Yours truly (an average
height and weight size ways)
nondescript grown
male munching kin
stands a little less than threefold
larger than full grown homunculi.

Rumor monger kickstarter
Matthew Scott Harris
posits nontrue tidbit
regarding rock 'n' roll star
who (name unmentioned)
became the most influential
musicians across the universe,
with estimated record sales
of around 600 million
as of two thousand twenty blank.

Imp possible mission
to see non elfish (pressed) lee
160 years after his Irish ancestor
crossed the Atlantic
curling his left lip,
whereby convalescing, peep ping auld
timers cavorting wax nostalgic with
itty bitty whippersnappers,
averse to any outliers, 
whether hirsute or bald
an honest to goodness painstaking effort
initially stymied friendship proffered, a cold
reception eventually bedecked 
hall of the mountain king
(while sharing diet of worms)
deep under verdantly
festooned knolls of Eire land.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Earth As It Is

These are the times
I sit and ponder at the beauty of it all,
amazed at the bounty of my blessings
Overburdened with foolish reminiscing
For the time has come for the present...

...life's never ending event

I admire the lovely wetness
of unexpected rain
Walnuts that look like human brains
Trees that sprout out of elk heads
to battle others for honor and for mates
I marvel at the convenience
of the kangaroo's curious pouch
The patience of eagles lying in wait
Chameleons (that rainbow reptilian)
shifting colors at a glance,
occasionally russet (at times van Gogh)
The industry of ants,
single file,
   row
      by row,
         by row,

(not one little rebel)

The diamond skin of a pineapple,
amber juices aburst with sweetness
(and even the librarians in their neatness)
...not one little thing is worthy of omitting

For this bird bath of a planet
is positively brimming
with secrets to behold

Like the fangs of fire foxes
that tear into flesh
(but the story doesn't end there,
lest we forget)

For the pricks of a porcupine
are there to remind you,
regardless of strength or size
In the dark every creature
has the same set
of glowing eyes

The sunniest of marigolds
that brings the promise of summer fun
Just as much as the paper I like to fold
Cranes perched on the windowsill

(longing to fly just like the real ones)

There is magic everywhere you go,
no need to reinvent or fantasize
about some hidden secret or treasure trove
I can see the Pacific in your eyes
The Milky Way in a nautilus shell
(you can see it if you're looking,
you can hear it if you're blind)

Just sit a spell and listen
to the eternal song
of the infinite mind
Or catch a glimpse of April fireflies

(the misfit stars that got left behind)

So keep your gold, Leprechauns
Mermaids of old with your siren songs
serenade some other hapless chap
to the edge of the sea (and never look back)
And Genie of the Lamp, keep the other two,
for here's my first and only wish:
I want the earth, and everything that's in it...

...just as it is



PS. Inspired by the poetry of Suzanne Delaney and Carol Mays in their wonderful book, Poems of Nature, Enchantment and Mystery.


Premium Member Summons From the Faerie Queen

It was late at night 
Perhaps a little past midnight 
When arrived at last to my quinsy little house 
And unexpectedly I was greeted by my friend The Mouse. 

He looked so delighted to see me once more after a long day again 
He told me I have an important message from the Queen and her counsel-men 
It seems there was something for me to share with all the fairies, leprechauns and gnomes 
Dwarves, half-lings, trolls, elves, pixies and dragons too for a better way to teach the children from Fairyland their ABC. 

The Fairy Queen was concerned and worry of late, 
It seems in Fairyland they were not enough teacher candidates 
To teach our Fairy Children all over the land how to read 
She had noticed that parents were just too busy, about this they all agreed. 

So, she's now organizing an emergency meeting for all in Fairyland to attend as soon as possible 
She realizes that this and other problems cannot be by her anymore acceptable 
A meeting is to take place after she has consulted it by tomorrow with me 
Everybody is invited by the Fairy Queen herself to come to the Fairy Ball Auditorium. 

The Queen is planning it seems a most wonderful Fairy Ball after her council with me its over 
So honored I am to be invited by the Fairy Queen herself as I always have been 
After all I am Nindo, King of the Forest Gnomes and her Royal Adviser and most devoted royal friend. 
Its clear that I am expected anyway by royal duty and command to this party to attend. 

So I better let you go and say here my goodnight to you since I got so much to do now 
I am sending back right away a Thank You to the Queen with a letter of you know-how 
With all this carry-on and excitement I am just looking forward to a goodnight sleep 
Tomorrow at break down I shall see again my Fairy Queen and for Fairyland our cares to keep. 

Off I am going now for a wonderful night rest 
I want to look better tomorrow, to be my best! 
So happy I am to live here in this enchanting place we all called Fairyland 
So close to nature with all my Little People and with the beautiful Fairy Queen that to us all here commands. 



Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 
copyright2004

October,27,2014
Form: Rhyme

Tuck the 7 Foot Leprechaun

Here's a story about a Leprechaun
But it's not exactly what you think
For this one was over seven foot tall
Til one day when he started to shrink

Now everybody knows about leprechauns
And how they hide their pot of gold
But you better wait til this story is over
So now, listen close, to how it's told

Now Tuck was a little more than 7 foot tall
He picked the apples straight off the trees
He also like to play those leprechaun games
Course he had to play on his knees

See, Tuck wasn't no ordinary leprechaun
He was from the hills of Tennessee
Now Hillbilly leprechauns are really rare
And It's something that you hardly ever see

He was born at the end of a magic rainbow
Way back in leprechaun hollow
And the first time you see one that's 7 foot tall
Well, that was just something kinda hard to swallow

They banished him from the leprechaun clan
So, one day, he set out on his own
He found himself, in a place called Ireland
Thousands of miles from home

When he come across three tiny leprechauns
Just sitting and shooting the breeze
See, they'd been trying for hours now
To knock the apples out of those trees

Tuck said, "Fellas I can get you them apples,
But tell me, what's in it for me?"
See, Tuck was a very good horse trader
When he was living back in Tennessee

"We'll trade you our pot of gold", one said
But his fingers were crossed, and he was faking
So Tuck grabbed a hold of one of those limbs
And the whole dang tree started shaking

Those apples started falling everywhere
Just bouncing all over the ground
When one of them picked up a golden apple
And yelled, "Hey Tuck, look what I found"

Now them Irish leprechauns are mighty sneaky
And Tuck took it before he was thinkin'
He opened his mouth and took a big bite
And that's when he suddenly started shrinkin'

All three leprechauns started to laugh
And said, "You're no taller than a garden gnome"
But that's exactly what he was hoping for
For now Tuck can go back home

See, a leprechaun would never give up his gold
And he knew it was some kind of trick
The shrinking spell is the oldest in the book
And they're left with the short end of the stick
© Larry Belt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Other Side of the Rainbow

It was on the other side of the rainbow
When I slid into a dream
I guess at that time nothing was, as it truly seemed
People came and people went
The needle played my blues
Through the rainbow dreams into leprechaun schemes
I was Papa Smurf with the magic brew
I built a Crystal Castle
On the shores of nevermore
I guess sometimes I wonder, “What was I searching for”
Beauty danced with big brown eyes
Though the faces always changed
Many times I slept with gals I thought were rather strange
Magic slides that no one hides
I wonder where they go?
I once slid down the rainbow just to see the show
The stars are bright it’s a beautiful night
Moonbeams illuminating mushrooms all around
Here by my house crickets and frogs are the only sound
Fairies dance like fireflies 
It’s really quite the sight
Ever tripped down Hollywood and Vine on a Friday night
I have lived through many dreams
Shared many angels souls
Shattered dreams and broken schemes, nothing but empty goals
Broken hearts torn apart
Blowing in the wind
Like fairy dust you just can’t trust
Not even your closest friend
I dove into a crystal pool on the other side of the hill
I swear sometimes in my ears I can hear the ringing still
I rode upon the tornado just to go spinning through the sound
Landed in a concrete room bouncing all around
Leprechauns and rainbows
Unicorn’s beautiful and white
When I finally kicked the horse
It wasn’t a pretty sight
Like a frog on the log or a sick old dawg
Just a skeleton in a box
With the strength of Arthur's sword and trust in the Lord
I shattered a thousand locks
Now I’m back on this side of the rainbow
And every thing’s looking bright
My Guinevere is here and I love her dear
She is such a lovely sight
Trials come like waterfalls
Flooding though our life
I truly am a lucky man to face them with my wife
Well let’s gig the frog and fire up the log
We’ll roast us a pig tonight
Life is good in my neighborhood
Nary a single vice
The other side of the rainbow now seems so very far away
I guess that is really about all I have to say
Form: Narrative

Part 2- the Lourde' and the Ladee' and the Magikal' Forest of Ode'

The Moon Beam riders had traveled to Earth
 To bless each childe' at it’s moment of birth
 The Lourde’and his Ladee’ rode swiftly down the road
 To join leprechauns and pixies in the Forest of Ode’
 They must quickly make haste before the night turned around
 Fire faeries' and star babees' danced merrily on the ground
 Dream Weavers and Sandmen scurried joyfully thru the woods
 Carrying brite coulored' baskets filled with magikal' goods 

A woodland wedding for the bride and the groom
 In the Garden of Ode’ under the stars and the moon
 Faerie bride Aveena with her hair spun of gold
 Avid the groom so brave... so bold
 Aveena's gown was shimmering, starbrite white
 As Avid the brave one stood beside her in the night 

They all joined together singing jubiliant songs of great glee
 Then the Lourde’ and his Ladee’ rode in with the magik' key
 Magik' and musik' echoed thru the night air
 As the Lourde’and his Ladee’ joined the tiny pair
 The Magikal' Garden rang oute’ in joyous song
 As Aveena and Avid said their vows to belong 

Elves, gnomes, wizards, moon babees and pixies
 Water and Earth spirits and a faerie' named Trixie
 All dancing in the garden where the all wizards dwelled
 Made of magikal' faerie' duste', softe' green moss and bluebells
 
Slowly the twilite started slipping away
 As they all sang and danced in joyful play
 Then all of a sudden... quite out of the blue
 In a blink of thee eye- away they all flew
 In the realms of twilight shimmering across the night sky
 There was a fluttering of wings as they all began to fly, fly, fly
 Their silvery wings glistened like stars in the night
 As they majestikally' ascended into mystikal' flight
 *********
 After all the fairies' and elves went to their homes of yonder
 Aveena and Avid began their magikal' married life together
 They lived in their Enchanted Cottage in the magikal Forest Of Ode'...
 ' Happily ever after and after and after '
 The Happy End
 
*¸.•'´¯)*¸.•'´¯)*¸.•'´¯)*¸.•'´¯)*¸.•'´¯)
 P.S. Please remember to come back for our final ending...it's just full of magikal' instructions
Form: Epic

The Luck of the Irish

Ahhh the luck of the Irish 
complete with leprechauns 
and pots of gold 

The Emerald Isle 
God's country 
filled with lyrical voice 

but no one hears her cry 

that fabled luck 
truly a fable t'would seem 

suffering 
the only thing in abundance 
it is their only pot 
that remains filled 

an impoverished relative 
showing up late for dinner 
tossed a few scraps 
from the rich relatives
but not allowed to sit at the table

a history rich with servitude
famine, plaque 
and indentured slavery 

spit upon by class distinctions 
laughed about as uneducated 
their brogue common 

ahhh yes the curse of the commoner
in a society that rewards 
upper class and the deemed 
right of birth 

drunken happy go lucky louts 
that would steal your pants 
rather than wash his own 
and on and on the prejudice flows

from old days into the new 
of drinking and gambling 
even in the movies 
portrayed as a rogue 

these perceptions followed 
fine people across the sea
where they built the cities 
endured the hardships 

and still no one hears their cry 
no one gives them their due 

they did the jobs 
others were to afraid to do
the hard labor
standing on steel skyscrapers 

so many descendent's
of this proud people 
have formed the foundations 
of other countries 
and still they do not control their own 

now the world frowns 
not understanding the religious battle 
that dwells within 
it's all they have 
their faith 
it makes perfect sense to me 

for yes the Irish 
would start a fight in a church 
for they are not afraid 
to stand up for their beliefs 

they are just hollow 
for so much 
has been taken from them
so much suffering 
has been endured 

so they cling to their faith 
as a man clings to a life preserver 
for to lose that last vestige 
they will lose themselves 

ahhhh the luck of the Irish 
maybe they should pass that luck to another 
then maybe someone will hear their cries

someday they may follow the rainbow 
and will truly find that pot of gold

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