When I was SEVENTEEN,
I would hide unseen.

In the garden behind an ivy dead arch,
you could see me there in the month of MARCH.

When spring would come to the Irish Loch,
the meadows be covered with a million SHAMROCK.

So as far as could be seen with the eyes of a teen,
There was mile after mile of heavenly Irish GREEN.

WORDS: Jig, Lepruchan, clover, Ireland
_________________________
Take a peek at my BLOG:

http://charleen-micheles.blogspot.com/