Stand up.Face the new day.Reach a little farther.Do what you fear you cannot do.Be bold.

Irish luck, aye, that I’ve got.A four-leaf clover—aye, that too.I’ll tell ye, lassie, what I’ve not,A lucky Irish kiss from you!

He was always thoughtful and affectionate toward her, and so she was a sweetheart to him.

You were a spark that caught my eye,And then suddenly you were my sun.You were a shadow born of dreams,And then suddenly nightfall was fun.You were a soft, consoling word,And then suddenly you were my song.You were a sweet that touched my lips,And then suddenly hunger was strong.You were a scent stirred by the breeze,And then suddenly you were my air.You were a star set out of reach,And then suddenly love was unfair.

You don’t believe in leprechauns.A myth you say they be.You don’t believe in pots-o-gold,or four-leaf-clover tea.You don’t believe the rainbow’s endalights on treasured finds.They are illusions meant for fools you say ‘ave lost their minds.You don’t believe in whisperingyour wishes to the wind,where on St. Patrick’s holidaythey blow t’wards Ireland.You don’t believe in magic spellsor longings coming true.Yet, head-to-toe you dress in greenon Patty’s Day, you do.

Sound.Noisethe air employs.Melodies sweet.Tweet, tweet, tweet.Soft. Loud.A roaring crowd.Cluck. Caw. Crow.Tet, tet. Tis, tis.Guttural growl.Harrowing howl.Drip, drip, drip.Tap, tap, tap.Moan and groan.Endless drone.Ding, dang, dong.A church bell song.Vibrations in my earto hear.Sound.

I wish I were a tree.Tall. Strong. Abiding.Rooted in the spot I stand, impervious to lures that drag the transient here and there. Possessing neither a negligent ear nor a traitorous tongue that would only soak in and breath out rabid gossip. Able to endure fickle shifts in the wind and not bend. Lazing under the fierce sun, weariless, suffering no sweat or burn.Alive, sipping water, quietly providing.How I wish I were a tree.

I am falling in love with you,but I can’t say a word.You don’t care for love. It has bruised you, broken you, burned you. You call it a curse. Yet, I fear I am captive of this enemy, love. You warn of its destructive power. Oh, but it warms me like none other! It engulfs me in caressing flames, and foolishly I crave more. I can’t bear to suffer the cold, so I let you feed the fire unwittingly.I am falling in love with you.I am in love with you,and it’s getting worse.

Lavender lilies all dotted with spots.Sun-yellow daffodils clustered in pots.Blue morning-glories climb trellises high.Powder-white asters like stars in the sky.Thick, pink peonies unfold in the sun.Winter adieu now that spring has begun.