That foxy ole’ leprechaun is at it again,
Telling me he’s my very best friend,
A confidant, a buddy, a patron saint,
Painted some stones with a gold colored paint.
To me he came with a gleam in his eyes,
Tried to fool me, not knowing, I’m so wise.
“I’ll buy your ox with this here me gold,
From my stash I hid next to MacGregor’s lode.”
“I’ll buy your house with my shiny black pearls.”
Said I, with some glossy coals from my burrows.
I got his house and he got my ox.
He couldn’t fool me, that ole’ green fox.
Happy St Patrick's Day. This poem was published in "The Belt and Beyond."