IN A DARK PUB IN IRELAND,
CAN BE PURCHASED EMERALD BEER.
PASSING YOUR TONGUE, THE TASTE IS GRAND,
AND IT WILL SMOOTHLY DISAPPEAR.


YOU’LL SMACK YOUR LIPS AND ASK FOR MORE,
ONCE AGAIN, AND THEN ANOTHER.
NEXT, THEY’LL HAUL YE UP FROM THE FLOOR,
AND SEND YE HOME TO DEAR MOTHER.


BUT IF YOU’RE STANDING AFTER FOUR,
THE BARTENDER JINGLES A BELL.
YOU’RE FULL BLOODED IRISH, FOR SURE,
WITH CORPUSCLES ALL GREEN, AS WELL.


‘TIS KNOWN AS THE “LEPRECHAUN PUB”,
WHERE THE SPIRITS ARE ALL TOP SHELF.
AYE, MY SON, BUT HERE IS THE NUB:
DRINK NOT WHEN YE SEE A WEE ELF.


THAT’S THE TIP-OFF YOU’VE HAD YOUR FILL,
AND THERE’S NO POINT IN TEMPTING FATE.
DRINK UP, AND BE PAYING THE BILL –
YOU’LL SHRINK UP IF YE HESITATE.



© By RickMack (rmrickmack@aol.com)











 



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