Short The Irish Poems
Short The Irish Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about The Irish by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about The Irish by length and keyword.
You’re looking at me
Kiss me I’m Irish you say
With a face like that
I will do much more than that
Hey! The luck of the Irish
Hoping to relieve my condition,
I told the Irish beauty, I believed
in sex before marriage;
“And what man doesn’t?”
came her reply.
The little Manx cat
has a short and stubby tail
This is how they're born.
They come from the Isle of Man.
It's out in the Irish Sea.
Ah, the Irish city of Dublin!
Sure 'tis always bustlin' and rumblin'!
And, at times, when it rains,
folks try not to complain,
in spite of the puddlin' and bubblin'!
He’s Irish not Scottish or British
You forget, he’ll get ornery and skittish
He’ll point to his pelt
Start swearing in Celt
With a splash of some Gaelic and Yiddish
Last night I heard the banshee,
After a few swigs of whiskey,
And after I heard her scream,
I poured some Bailey's and cream.
Now I cannot hear her nor see.
3/13/17
St Patrick’s day is great
to drink Guinness and relate
how great the Irish are
at falling out of bar
in a highly drunken state
penned 14 March 2017
Mr. O'Toole in trauma sat in front
Seeking mercy from tax assessor stunt.
His Irish luck grace
Full Blown-in his face.
With distaste pay money in full upfront.
3/26/2025
They are all gone now,
Heaney, Mahon and Longley
the last to go.
Their words speak
to these troubled times
with a lasting humanity.
Thanks be
to poetry's Irish trinity.
The Irish, 'tis said, as a nation,
They're quite fond of inebriation.
So they guzzle large vats
On the day called St. Pat’s
'Tween rounds of Gaelic fornication.
(3/15/2017)
A leprechaun looking for gold
'neath the shimmering shamrocks of olde
(with the luck of a Gael)
found ten bottles of ale
somewhat green as if covered with mould.
3/15/2017
Today I relay a message from the Irish philosopher Edmund Burke
Which, I imagine he must have acquired from his mother….
Never…no never did nature say one thing
and wisdom say another.
There was a gal who saw little green men
while drinking Guinness - about nine or ten,
she thought they would disappear
if she stopped the Irish beer...
but she's become their earthly specimen!
Stout Hearted Men
Alas for the Irish ‘tis fate
to drown in Guinness this date
and “quietly” shout
hoorah for the “stout”
‘Tis an insatiable thirst I must sate
John G. Lawless
©2/25/2018
I once met a lady from Killarney
Her tendencies leaned toward the smarmy
Wore the briefest of shorts
Couldn’t hide her big warts
But, she could handle the Irish army.
Written April 5, 2021
No more of us
That is when I close my mind
Early of day
To not repay time
You cannot see my face at last
She will not be for your world
I came from within hers
Contritions women
Least of the Irish slaves
The luck of the Irish has always been
St Patrick did not preach for men to preen
in great lewdness and less love
but for friends to look above...
with gratitude garnished with touch of green.
Written 02/4/ 2017
'Tis said Saint Patrick rid Erin of snakes
If such is true what a great tale it makes
Skeptics claim it ain't true
Others haven't a clue
Could be a scam like the Irish Sweepstakes
GOOD LUCK, SAM
Shamrocks with green eggs and ham.
Resistance from Sam I Am.
If you offer him gold,
he won’t see the mold.
Leprechauns roar at the sham.
3/14/2017
Kim Merryman’s Luck of the Irish Limerick Contest
Off, Seamus marched with a swagger,
Yet, soon, he slowed, that sly lagger.
Then, not very far,
He snuck to a bar:
By noon, his march was a stagger.
March 17, 2017
Luck of the Irish Limerick Contest
Kim Merryman, Sponsor
The Irish pipe band played Amazing Grace
Their drum major showed his skills with the mace
In the air he threw it
But misjudged and blew it
When it came down and hit him in the face...
Written 22 February 2021.
What is the summary of these two poems : "on the memory of mr edward king, drowned in the irish seas by john cleveland, mark anthony;"when as the nightingale chanted her vespers dirge" by james shirley. Please I need feedback on these two poems.
McPherson, McGregor, McTavish and me
All went out for a wee cup o’ tea.
McPherson took sugar, just one lump I see,
McGregor took two lumps, McTavish took three.
I settled for lemon, no sugar for me,
I don’t like those sweets inside of my tea.
we pearl like pink carnations welcomed the Irish piglet fine
He had travelled to our village through the Eager Emerald mine.
His magic tricks were amazing, his positivity a light to shine.
He uplifted the whole village and eloped with piglet Clementine.
Stay wild
Celtic child
Splash in the Irish sea
Dry your self with a bonfire’s heat
Whisper your secrets to the moon
while the bodhrán beats out an ancient tune.
Play hide and seek in the tomb of the Queens
Then, naked upon a bed of flowers, softly dream