IB St. Patrick's Day Poem

Rollin’ in the Clover

To “An Irish Lullyaby”

Cornbeef and Cabbage

Whiskey and rye

Crock of Gold Pieces

At the Piers end

And a friend

Dancing on the beach

To an Irish jig

Laughing as your surfer

Puts on an orange wig

Green Coffee at West Coast

Green Beer at the Plank

Served by a cutie bartender

I think his name was Hank (OGill,,  McNeil, Lopez—Oops is that Irish?)

I caught a leprechaun today

I looked him in the eye

My wish to hear the bagpipes

When it’s my time to die

But “wait”  said the wee one

You don’t know the Rhine

Bagpipes are Scottish

And we Irish don’t drink wine

(Oops again?)