A small, mischievous elf, dressed in green attire,

Boots of black, boots perhaps of the same color.

From Irish folklore, it has been said they have been

Seen roaming the Irish countryside, these wee folk.

Members of a clan, they invaded Ireland, banished

To live underground, standing only two to three feet

Tall, these devious characters,

Quick-witted, intelligent, they evade capture from

Humans.

They live in underground caves with entrances,

Or a hollow trunk of a fairy tree,

It is said that wishes of three have been granted to some

That leaves them be.

They are known for their love of Irish music and dance,

Instruments played,

The whistle, the fiddle, Bodhran, and the Irish harp,

A look with beards and pipes.

Shoemakers they are, believed because of all the

Dance they do,

To catch one of the wee folk is nearly impossible

As they are smart with magical powers.

Vanish into thin air they can, a pot of gold is

A most possible dream,

You’ll hear an Irish Leprechaun before you’ll

Ever see one,

They have a fondness for drinking Irish Poitin,

Catch one if you can.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

Keith Garrett