The Emerald Isle

OK, I admit that this didn't take a lot of thought. What is green about March? St. Patrick's Day, of course. Green also can be thought of as the return of spring, crocus beginning to push above the ground, delicate leaf buds appearing at the end of branches and one of my personal favorites, pussy willows. They, along with dandelions, are often a mother's first gifts from their children.
This is a small tribute to the Emerald Isle, one of the many countries in my ancestry.

The Emerald Isle

Long ago and far away,
As well as the here
And now,
Ireland has a history
Of things fanciful
And wild.
The fairy rings
Of mushrooms tall,
The leprechand's gold
At rainbow's end,
The wonderful history of ghosts
And castles
To their folklore lends
A touch of magic,
Tales to be told,
Passed down to
Families and friends.

The music of Ireland stirs my soul.
It's Celtic rhythm soothes
Or can be a song to march to,
A cry to arms, so true.
The sounds of pipes
And harps, I love.
The violin's music surrounds
Like angels voices from above.
A fiddle plays to make me dance,
My steps are fairy light.
The distant thunder of
Step dancing
Makes my heart take flight.

The wonderful gift of St. Patrick,
He chased the snakes away.
So we celebrate his awesome deed
On St. Patricks Day.
We wear the green
With pride and flair.
A toast with whiskey so fine,
You should at least
Have a pair
Of Irish rye, sublime.

So in conclusion
I wish to give
A blessing, nothing to dread.
May you be in heaven a full hour
Before the devil knows you're dead.


I'm posting this early as my sister is gravely ill and I must go. She may not have much longer.
God bless you all.