Tonight I Fear

Upon Ireland’s Turf I Pray to Stand

A Leprechaun’s Lie

Three American Kings

King of the Land

The Green of My Land

Love Flows Freely of the Irish Heart (Ireland Conceived)

The Red Rose of Texas (Ireland’s Red Rose)

Eyes Strain to See



Tonight I Fear

Tonight I fear, I fear this night may be my last, it seems I know this fear well,

Long ago before I had yet expressed my love I feared war would ring the final bell,

So many fears I have inside of fear itself as I fear when my time will come,

It isn’t for me I fear, but I worry for your fate in my departure my little special one,


As we place footprints in the sand I look behind to see where we have been,

I look into the past and as I speak I sound like one of old with “way back when,”

Reflections in the mirror tell a tale of age that has come and passed me by,

I look at your eternal beauty and wonder why I look like such a worn out guy,


Twenty years ago I feared time would expire before I proved my love to you,

Life’s penalty is sometimes guilt and I must say I carry guilt for a thing or two,

Did I show you my love the way I should? Please tell me if you feel I did,

When they lay me in the cold dark earth I pray you never feel my love was hid,


And again I fear, yes I have so much fear each time I hold you will be my last,

It seems my time is a coming ’round, I fear time is coming far too fast,

Perhaps it’ll come on a fine pleasant day when I have worked hard all day,

Let me say now how sorry I am that I didn’t find a way for us to finally play,


We did have fun at times as we traveled alone with no others along,

Time alone with you brought clarity to every beautiful Irish love song,

As we walked the shores of Ireland’s west I saw heaven again in your eyes,

And I fear, I fear you won’t know how much I love you when my flame dies.

The end, I love you Patti



Upon Ireland’s Turf I Pray to Stand

A river of time flows within the Shannon carrying minutes crashing through,

I have been ravaged by time and the things I was once made to do,

I am blessed to return to the beauty of Ireland and for a while feel renewed,

I write these words of love for her but to another it’s differently construed,


I love to stand upon her turf and absorb the smell of citizen’s burning peat,

Formerly a given to dig the turf but a right the powers managed to defeat,

It’s a true turf war yet the idea of conservation of our land is correct,

Conserve this beautiful isle that my grandchildren can return to connect,


She is an emerald, no doubt, when viewed from the heavens high above,

Though time never tires, Ireland has managed to keep her children’s love,

To be Irish is a gift of enormous history in knowing your roots and kin,

Then when returning to be welcomed with love no matter where you’ve been,


The children of this land have produced priest and teachers of God’s word,

Listen for a while and across the land the same message is to be heard,

They are united in their love of land and unite to help each one in need,

So many from many parts of the world take pride to be of Irish breed,


And so flows time yet the homes of our father’s fathers still stand to be seen,

The roots and wisdom of their father’s experiences keep their choices keen,

The fingers of time stretch far through the land never allowing retreat,

From the shelter of my mother’s womb time’s destiny is to always defeat,


It places importance deep in my heart for the love of this beautiful isle,

How does the soul and heart unite to express such love for every mile?

The kinship with each soul upon their land, the man and land has a kinship, too,

Hardships endured have united each in a way understood by too few,


Rainbows are actually anchored in the gold of the leprechaun’s pot,

Only the leprechaun or rainbow can move this pot from its original spot,

Lore and truth are so interlaced that they both must carry fortune and gold,

No more beautiful place is upon earth to search for the gold from a story told,


Perhaps rainbows are manufactured at the hands of fairies and such,

Visitors feel it too while in Ireland everything seems to have a magical touch,

Gold also may be the mystical creation of a leprechaun’s little magic hand,

Maybe through time they have traveled the world leaving gold on each land,


Only in Ireland can the moon touch your heart in such a way as heaven above,

While in Ireland never lay waste of a moment while in the arms of true love,

The rains fall to present the rainbow as it fades from downpour to sun,

Only in Ireland can such a transition from rain to shine be quickly done,


So many unsolved mysteries are found upon this soil, Bigfoot too,

The leprechaun mystery is real and perhaps in dimension two,

But brotherhood, sisterhood, love of kin and the willingness to share,

My true love stands at my side but a part of my heart remains over there.

The end, by Pat


Ireland UFO take by Patti, 2006

Irish sunset with UFO, taken by Patti in April of 2006



A Leprechaun’s Lie

A leprechaun’s lie is a horrible lie a terrible thing indeed,

To hide my pot of gold I told a tale of a magical Irish seed,

Would grow, you see, to very large proportion if you hungered so,

Or, let’s say your petrol low, it’ll provide fuel where’s ever you go,


It was a story or was it a yarn I spun to save me precious Irish gold,

Think for a moment if you will, I’m so small it’s not a large pot to hold,

Yet, it’s me gold you see, it’s all I have and means the world to me,

And, yes, it’s a beautiful gold in lumps and coins so pretty to see,


I spun it well, telling of many and how they survived the potato blight,

A leprechaun’s story if told well will hold you long into the night,

If given the chance and I bore you to tears or hold you spellbound,

At a moment’s notice you’ll see me butt and a hard running sound,


This magical seed only a lucky few Irish have known to hold,

Is more precious to many because with patience it’ll grow gold,

Medicine to cure a hard night’s drink is found in the magic plant,

A bit on yourself and the beautiful lass won’t say no or can’t,


Medicine for cure of so many things from broken bones to killing pain,

Reach out you hand to accept my magic seeds but me gold must remain,

Then suddenly I was off in a flash when from nowhere I’m hit by a car,

Yelling you’ll be fine I swear, she poured those damned seed from the jar.

The end, by Pat



Three American Kings

I see so many things in clouds when I pray to Him,

Sadly I must admit most times it is done on a whim,

In an Irish sunset one beautiful evening with you,

I gave thanks to be with you sharing the golden hue,


A rarity came that birthday of our Lord Jesus Christ,

Blankets of snow covered Ireland; the trees were iced,

Crystal palaces of nature’s choosing for our King,

An angel from heaven shared the view wearing my ring,


Upon this land a gift was given three American Kings,

A white Christmas so rare it’s the rarest of things,

To be with foreign family whose roots are so strong,

Sharing worship to Him and sing a Christmas song,


Deep in my heart I gave thanks to be loved by her and them,

But more important I gave thanks we were saved by Him,

Most of the time my feet are firm and level on the ground,

Tears fell that Christmas in thanks as they gathered round,


The gift given me that none others could fully understand,

I once again slipped a ring upon my beautiful bride’s hand,

The clouds seemed to say He’s happy to share with you today,

To love my angel for over forty married years is His way.




King of the Land

The Kings had gathered round to celebrate one of their own,

He, the eldest of fourteen, had been the successor of the throne,

An honor so given by death, yet so unwanted by the holder,

Should said man be honored, he queried, because he’s the elder,


Still reeling from the day’s events I have reviewed in my head,

Never had I expected to see all the family united until I was dead,

At this moment in time my wealth of life events rivaled gold,

To see all gathered in happiness to touch, kiss or just to hold,


As I looked around the room at the faces of so many years gone,

I realized how fragile each person in the room is yet so strong,

Gathered round me I could see in each my father and my mother,

How proud they’d be to see all gathered round to honor their brother,


The strength of my father is seen so strong in each one there,

Mama’s kind heart and tenderness so evident in how they care,

Also I prayed a prayer of thanks that through it all most are well,

Though I felt poor of health today, I’m excited for this rhyme to tell,


My heart was moved so to see them gathered as a group again,

It’s important they realize time’s passage is a contest they can’t win,

This time I prayed the Lord to lift any burden they hold in their heart,

That frailties of heart and mind have comfort that healing may start,


Pray Lord that each may have a life as wonderful as mine has been,

That they may feel the joy I felt today through lifetime and again,

If only someday each could go home to our Irish home across the sea,

So they could meet their other family that has given so much to me,


Next to me she was there, my queen and organizer of today’s event,

Sweet Patti, I know it was hard especially how the past days were spent,

Susan and James took part, I know, in making this day in whole or part,

The book of our history together touched my soul and moved my heart,


I married an angel it is seen by the photographs in that history book,

Never has a man been so blessed as I on the day her hand I took,

In the past I’ve said I searched for happiness then found her at my side,

To engrave my headstone as Patti’s husband would fill me with pride,


Soon my time will draw to an end when all may unite once again,

Though I have suffered, please know how wonderful my life has been,

Of all my birthdays this is the best just to again touch each hand,

After sixty five years I was actually, for a day, King of the land.




The Green of My Land

There’s a full moon hanging across the green of my land tonight,

I look upon her memory and love her in return with all my might,

I feel right in her grasp even though my age denies my dance,

Only Ireland’s breath is felt by Irishmen and leprechauns by chance,


She is alive with love carried in the hearts of those she birthed,

Wake up, I cry, to all ye departing with her gold ye have unearthed,

Heavy am I tonight as memories of the exodus take its toll,

Was the famine part of chance or was it Satan’s evil roll,


Listen to the banshee cry in lonely anguish for those buried afar,

So many of our brothers and sisters are buried under a foreign star,

How can a small Emerald Isle produce such brilliance untouched,

So many used for labor while the glow of their soul is diminished,


The beauty of the land is within the soul of each as they departed,

So many returned feeling beaten in spirit and deeply broken hearted,

To ye all, you have friends in all the right places right here at home,

Never let loose her hand as she presents you to brothers and gnome,


New York City wouldn’t stand without Boston’s Irish labor near,

Explain the disparity to demean The Mick yet hold Irish blood dear,

Come home, I cry, to all ye Irish, be you flesh, pixie or loved Irish Leprechaun,

Bring home the gold to replenish our soil before flesh and love is gone.


The end, by Pat



Love Flows Freely of the Irish Heart (Ireland Conceived)

I stepped from the plane and knew I had returned to the homeland,

They had rushed away from her green turf, arm in arm, hand in hand,

It seemed my worth tripled in value just because of where I stood,

To my mother I had promised for so long to go home if only I could,


The gentle touch of my mother’s hand was felt once more inside,

As I looked around at the landscape my Irish heart filled with pride,

Never have I known such love of land though I was born so far away,

Conceived here to be born in a promised land called the U.S. A.


The angel at my side has declared allegiance to this land I love so,

My sweet Irish angel clings to my side, as we travel she’s aglow,

I would never have known a love as strong as this without Irish blood,

So many suffered at home brought by the plight of a rotting spud,


I look across her green mountains with the sky so close I can touch blue,

Songs from the heart such as the “Rose of Tralee” are sung so true,

John Wayne walked tall with Irish pride to tell of Sean’s love for Mary Kate,

Love flows freely from wild Irish hearts but the drink makes him late,


The ocean is filled with Irish teardrops from crossings so long ago,

How many children of those departed have returned willing to show,

Our mothers departing regrets are long forgotten by those left behind,

The roots of Ireland will forever be engrained in the Irish heart and mind.

The end, by Pat



The Red Rose of Texas (Ireland’s Red Rose)

I’ve got words trapped within my drugged and exhausted mind,

If only the words could surface somehow it would be a poetic find,

I know there are words of journeys afar that you and I will one day take,

No doubt a photographic wonderland so beautiful you never take a break,


In a place this beautiful there must be a place reserved for only you,

For you are the most beautiful rose this old rose thorn ever knew,

So many varieties of Passion flower that grow like bush and vines,

In a place so wonderful there must also be all types of passion wines,


In a place with passion wine there must be places where lovers meet,

So little has been said of passion wine but I’ve heard it’s aroma is sweet,

Let me take your hand, my angel, and we will walk the paths of this land,

There is nothing better for my health than a long walk holding your hand,


Let me take you soon on a lover’s journey to a place where flowers grow,

We may find a rose so beautiful that no botanist or scientist will know,

I’d name that rose the Patti Rose after the rarest beauty I have seen,

Appropriately named for you, a special rose of beauty and velvet sheen,


We will have a sample freeze dried, to encapsulate in a resin that’s pure,

This rose  must compare to your beauty and it must have your sweet allure,

As we walk the paths of this land so far away there’s more for us to discover,

You and I have walked these paths before as we found mysteries to uncover,


No doubt I describe to you an island you and I have visited before,

It is of my mother’s homeland and my ancestors we’ve come to adore,

Ireland is a beautiful land that can’t be described in one word or rhyme,

If I wrote enough poems of beauty I may find way if given the time,


Although Ireland is beautiful it has no place to compare to the beauty of you,

Each time I whisper “you’re beautiful” in your ear,  know my words are true,

I find the red rose the most beautiful flower that God placed for us to view,

If asked who is the most beautiful woman I know I would yell out it’s you,


Soon we will journey again to this land we both love so very much,

There is something magical in this land as it increases feel and touch,

My love for you grows even more each day as I discover more of you,

You are the Red Rose of Texas and Ireland, the color of your lips says it’s true,

We will rent our room upon the lake’s shore and watch Irish sunsets again,


Each time I know I’m going to travel with you I can’t wait for the trip to begin,

Soon, my angel, we will journey there and again we will make love on the lake,

Until we take our journey, please know I love you more with each breath I take.


The end, for Patti by Pat.  Written while in the hospital in Houston Texas, spring 2015.  I love to travel with you Patti, it’s always a joy to share a trip with you.  I love you my beautiful little girl.



Eyes Strain to See

My heart has borne so much pain beyond the scope of vision now,

Desire living within my being is far too pleasant to hear somehow,

I am silent today as I feel the need to meditate in thoughts of you,

I have lived a dream yet they don’t remember it was me that knew,


I know life brings joy with payment due each time grace is upon me,

My life is but a blend of loving you as I try to remain alive just to be,

Sweet love has filled my being with sensations that feel to be gold,

My crippled eyes strain to see remnants of an angel I must behold,


This journey of the elders places men where old men shouldn’t be,

For I will cry and let unseen tears fall upon greenery I couldn’t see,

There are creatures small that dwell within the Irish coast for free,

With some envy I might prefer their plight of the repetitious unfree,


In search of an Irishman filled with brew is an easy search if there,

But the homeland of this Irishman is bare my DNA and bare my hair,

Exhaustion has overwhelmed my being so I must rest with loving you,

Deep thoughts played through as I relive moments of a love so true,


In thoughts, memories, dreams of paradise you are always near,

Nearly every moment of loving you is filled with joy year after year,

A blessed moment in my life was renewing our marriage vows too,

I love you sweet angel, I too love how sexual passion flows from you.

The end. For Patti, by Pat