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Here is a poem for my wild, Irish Rose To be read on St. Patrick's Day Green just might be your color- Green is fresh just like the spring; Great Nature's Herald, of Summer's glories to sing. You can be like that shimmering song A glimpse of the infinite pleasure to bring. and like the Ancient Mariner I have been tossed to often at sea And dreamed of the safest harbor for me. You can lure like that port's siren song, A precious glimpse of paradise yet to be. I see you sometimes as the Moon As men must have seen it in olden times The lovely source of their prayers and rhymes. And you can be like their haunting songs The brittlest whisper of ancient wind chimes. Not so static, you can soar like a bird And seek the solace of the open skies Seeming unfettered by all earthly ties Then bursting forth in triumphant song A sonic glimpse of how high life can fly. Yet you are still my wild, Irish Rose Blooming bright when I would never suspect Bringing more love than I could ever expect. and hidden in the rose's fragrant song Even more mystery to unfold and inspect That was the poem for my wild, Irish Rose To be read on St. Patrick's Day. |