Ah me dear tis early March,
Different parts of the country
Have such different weather.

Here today in old Wyoming
It is pretty and still snowing.
A blanket of white spread about,
Bringing moisture for flowers and grass
Later this year.

As the day for wearing the green,
Approaches all ain’t mean.
Some have flowers blooming tall,
So have dryness, arid all.

But what I do have,
Is a desire for Cathleen O’Grady.
The winsome wench with read hair,
The one who wears no underwear.

The tall beauty that lives on the brae,
Helps her da grow potatoes.
The lass that makes my heart
Go pitty patter.

The sweet young lass that gave me a kiss
Then she stole my last five pounds.
Eamon’s pride and joy,
Wonder if she will allow me to call?

Spring will come in a month or two,
Shucks some time, not even till June.
Parka and mucklucks it may be,
For our village Easter Parade.

But alas Cathleen is all I can think of,
Want to take her to the dance,
Show her how I can jig,
How we can dance a reel.

A box of chocolates, a red rose,
A bright blue sweater and some new hose,
Those are what I will give to her
And hope she with me will go.

I took a bath, put on clean clothes,
Greased my hair and trimmed my nails.
Oh the happiest man I will be
If Cathleen O’Grady

tomWYO, 030806

© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)

March is For Green (several writers)

Women's Rights...and Lefts


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