Posted by The Baubles, They Were Not Fortunate
By Finnian O’Flannigan
Behold the promises made by the people behind the box.
The baubles, they were not fortunate.
Although they were tasty, they tore up the roof of my mouth like an angry fox.
The baubles, they were not fortunate.
The rush of the sugar, my head now sore.
The baubles, they were not fortunate.
And here I am, again, wanting more.
Ay, these baubles, they are not fortunate.
The Blimey Stone
Friends gather ’round and hear about what I should have known…
For ne’er had I heard about that famous Blarney Stone,
‘Twas told to me once I grew to be a mature, but still young…
ever-curious, especially about kissing, Leprechaun.
“Kiss it” they said, “You will be given the gift of gab!”
So, I took the trip out west to see that stoney slab.
The gift of gab. The ability to yak,
Was this a quality that I did seem to lack?
I approached the stone, my lips all a-pucker,
Struck by the question if I was, yet again, a sucker.
Then quick like lightening my memory removed a block.
The gabbiest of creatures, my mother, had kissed that rock.
My lips relaxed, I turned away,
Grateful for the kiss I refused that day.
Lepre-Con Lady
‘Twas a year or so ago today,
At Lepre-Con, I met a Hibiscus Fairy.
There she stood, while listening to my prose,
I felt her eyes, I saw her nose.
Her schnoz so pert, so smooth so sweet,
I knew right there and then we must meet.
Tomorrow off to the tropics I shall go,
In hopes true love will ultimately show…
… at The End of the Rainbow…