Friday, 13 April 2012

Luck or is it

We are the lucky nation
Or so it is said
We hold the pots of gold
And the lucky clover beds

The leprechauns, the stories
The blarney stone it cures
All of those unsightly sores
Hundreds come to kiss it or rub it with their skin
Others come to drink the Guinness, the whiskey and the gin

We hold stories of ghosts and fantasy
Of headless horsemen and banshee
Of dead working men there be
The fields they spell out wonders
And tales of times gone by

Afraid to wonder down them
The truth of who haunts them and why?
The rivers that run through them and portals of time gone by
Don’t read the cards of life
For who knows what you get
Don’t let the ace of spades come up
It is your biggest threat

How lucky you are
It all depends on you
Spend time worrying about it
Can be easy to do
This day do the lotto
To see what will be

And if you’re lucky enough
The leprechauns luck may pass
It’s shining hand over you
But is it luck you need
Or is walking under the ladder
A true tale indeed
So as the day passes wonder and watch out
For the black cat that passes
Don’t forget to wish him luck 

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