At dawn on Saint Patrick's Day morn, if the wee little leprechauns find gold at the end of the rainbow, (and yuh know they do!)they collect ever last coin and nugget, putting it in tiny copper pots and carry it to their underground fortress.
Trouble is, the wee ones have a tendency to be just a smidge greedy. Even when they see they can't get all of the copper pots into their hole, before it closes up until the next Saint Patrick's Day comes, they try any way. They huff and they puff and squeeze ever last over flowing copper pot through. There is never enough time, however. One small copper pot is always left behind--containing the glittery gold that comes from the end of a rainbow.
Happy St. Paddy's Day to ye, too, Penni Lynn. Great little write!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :)
St. Paddy's, aye, she's a bit of a sad day for me: it's the anniversary of my mother's passing; it's been seventeen years (she died in 1990). I still miss her now as I did back then.
Grab your inner child, and jump into Edie's latest 'puddle', as she takes us for a delightful trip through the magical landscape of a child's imagination. Her wonder-filled poems take the ordinary situations and places around us and stretches them t
At dawn on Saint Patrick's Day morn, if the wee little leprechauns find gold at the end of the rainbow, (and yuh know they do!)they collect ever last coin and nugget, putting it in tiny copper pots and carry it to their underground fortress.
