[adrotate group=”1″] Born not on Irish soil, but across the sea, In Britain’s realm, his story began Patrick, a lad of noble birth, Destined for more than mere mortal span. Captured by raiders, torn from kin, He found solace in Ireland’s wild embrace. Six years a shepherd, heart heavy with longing. He turned to faith that desolate place. In dreams, a voice whispered divine and clear, “Escape, young Patrick, flee this verdant shore” He journeyed, barefoot across rugged terrain. Guided by angels to freedoms door. Yet another vision awaited him there. Angel’s plea: “Return ,O Patrick, dear friend. Bring light to this land, where druids roam and weave Christianity into its ancient blend./ In green meadows, Patrick walked and taught, His words like dewdrops on shamrocks’ leaves Three hearts in one—the Holy Trinity— He revealed through clover, a truth that weaves. On March seventeenth, the world dons green, In honor of this saint, both humble and grand. Church bells chime, and Irish families gather, To celebrate faith, heritage, and the land. Lenten prohibitions yield to joyous feasting, Cabbage and bacon grace every plate. And in the pubs, where laughter dances, Green beer flows, a merry twist of fate. Dr. Thomas Hayes Curtin, an Irish soul, In New York City, a century ago, Decided to paint the ale with shamrock hues, A festive libation, a radiant glow. Not with magic, but a drop of wash blue, A touch of poison, yet the crowd rejoiced. Green beer was born, a St. Patrick’s tradition, A toast to the saint, a jubilant voice. So raise your glass, dear revelers all, To Patrick, the shepherd turned apostle. His footsteps echo through time’s emerald halls, Guiding us toward love, hope, and the celestial. In every verdant sip, we taste his tale, A blend of faith, courage, and mirth. St. Patrick, forever woven into Ireland’s fabric, A beacon of light across the emerald earth. May the shamrocks twirl, the bagpipes play, And green beer flow on this hallowed day. Sláinte, St. Patrick, your legacy lives, In every heart that dances where the clover thrives. [adrotate group=”1″] Views: 147
Tag: Poem
MARCH MADNESS FROM THE BEGINNINGS (a poem)
[adrotate group=”1″] 🏀This poem captures the essence of March Madness, from its inception in 1939 to the memorable moments that have defined the tournament. It celebrates the spirit of competition, the joy of victory, and the heartbreak of defeat that are all part of this beloved annual event. Enjoy the Madness! 🏀 Wayne Lawrence In the heartland of Hoosiers, where basketball reigns, A tradition was born, amidst cheers and refrains. March Madness, they call it, a tournament grand, Where dreams are made real, in this basketball land. It started in ’39, with just eight teams in play, Ohio State lost to Oregon, on that historic day. Year by year, the field grew, the excitement did too, Every spring, the nation watched, as the Madness ensued. From Texas Western’s glory, in the year of ’66, To Bird versus Magic, in ’79, a rivalry affixed. The underdogs and upsets, the Cinderella tales, Laettner’s shot, NC State’s win, history regales. The brackets, the buzzer-beaters, the thrill of the fight, The shining moments under the Final Four’s bright light. Coaches, players, fans alike, all part of the dance, In the Madness of March, everyone has a chance. Through decades of dunks, of victories and tears, The Madness of March is the highlight of the year. So here’s to the teams, to the games we adore, In the Madness of March, it’s the love of the score. Artie Fischal [adrotate group=”1″] Views: 160
