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Wednesday, 24 November 2010


Amid mushrooms the leprechaun creeps

At the end of rainbows he sleeps

He would hit you with a rock

If you try to steal his crock

A master of devilish trickery

He will play games with ye

Doth thou keep away from me gold

He will say so brash and bold

Catch him and hear him rant

Three wishes he will grant

But those wishes are like the mist

With each one comes a twist

Laughs at you, he is all dressed in green

Never generous, just twice as mean

For his hidden gold he will dig

Trick you and dance an Irish jig


copyright Chris Smith 2008

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