Kiss Me I'm Irish
By La Belle Rouge

"Tis Long But Amusin"

Now list’all ye Ladies
and all ye Lairds too
for this tale I be tellin
'twas writt’n for you.
Todae is a gud dae
ta luv and give thanks
and ta bend all our elbows
wi beer in our tanks.

And tis grand ta be Irish
todae and all year through
for because when ye’re Irish
yer heart’s brave and true .

Give ear ta this legend
I swear it be real
‘bout ole Callum O’Conner
and his still in the field.
Each year at St Paddy’s
his whiskey turned green.
'Twas the finest green whiskey
a man ever seen.

When ole Callum O’Conner
gave a party that year
all the townefolk and leprechauns
came frum far and near.

There 'twas in attendance
a Fae with red hair.
All tha men and tha wee lairds
did notice her there
but fair Katie Crimson
had eyes but for one
and she vowed ta enslave him
afore night was done.

And that wee lil’ vixen
set her sites on but one.
Sure, and Callum O’Conner’s
daes of freedom ware done.

She tempted and teased him
no mercy she gave.
Her red hair and green frock
would drive Lugh to his grave.
She sneaked up bahind him
and then in his ear
whispered “Kiss Me I’m Irish”
while he drank his green beer.

And pur Callum O’Conner
could resist her no more.
Ta tha forest he followed
when she danced out tha door.

And that bold Katie Crimson
was a Fae wi a plan
Use her sweet lucky charms
for to capture her man.


~~~~PART 2~~~~~~


She ran through the forest
on wee Elvin feet
While O’Conner did chase her
cravin her kisses sweet.
He chased her for hours
'til she caught him at last
then with magic gold ropes
Katie tied him up fast.

He begged, “Please Luvly Lady
may I have one kiss now?”
But Wee Katie was clever
and no kiss would she allow.

She danced round the campfire
with green wings unfurled.
Cast a spell on O’Conner
ta forgat other girls.
He begged and he pleaded
for just one wee kiss.
He forgat his own party
and tha drinkin he’d miss

And the party was over
ere pink dawn broke the sky
Still for one taste of Katie
O'Conner would die!

Tis rumored Ole Callum's
yet tied up today
and still doin tha biddin
of his Wild Irish Fae.
So if you’re a listenin
ta this tale I have told
be wary of Wee Folk
and ropes wove of gold.

Oh tis grand to be Irish
wi a poetic soul
for the pen of us Irish
nere’ fails nor grows old.

Now tis part of the legend
down in Ole Derbyshire
that O’Conner’s still livin
wi twenty chaps he has sired.
They all make green whiskey
on St. Paddy’s Dae
And they all be redheaded
like their muther tha Fae.

Oh they say he does laundry
and he cooks like a chef
but he don’t seem to mind it
slavin for his fair red Elf.

Yes tis grand to be Irish
on St Paddy’s big dae
but hold well yer green whiskey
and watch out for the Fae.


2/27/2008 La Belle Rouge

“Poetry, Pure Fun”