MARCH 17th

I hope to kiss
the Blarney Stone,
my Irish friends
have urged me to.

They say the gift
of gab I’ll get,
with a honey
dipped Irish hue.

Me-thinks I should
partake of same,
and kiss the Stone
in that craggy nook.

To tell my friends
that I’m
an Irishman,
via Facebook.

Saint Patrick’s Day
I will proclaim,
in green apparel

that an Irishman
is in your midst,
roll-out the barrel.

We’ll drink the day
and through the night,
toasting all in
our company.

Don’t worry the
morrow, a day off
to ponder,
one drink too many.

On the 18th
I revert to norm,
and to my roots
return.

As my grand-parents
look down on me,
and do a slow
burn.

An Irishman
for a day,
good fellowship
and its mem’ries.

And now I have
many Irish friends,
as many as
I can see.

So in my fine
tenor voice,
I’ll sing again:

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day,
to all you Irishmen.


Puma/MMXI
Copyright 2011/T.Puma
(Voices in my head, verses to be read)