To be a real leprechaun,
and have a pot of gold.
To be able to enjoy the music,
and not be left out in the cold.

Their life of enjoyment,
can be seen in their face.
To be a living leprechaun,
is something I can embrace.

Their little deeds of mischief,
and the matching of their wit.
And a toast of Irish whiskey,
to make this seem legit.

I'd love to be a leprechaun,
So life can be a treasure.
I know that I would love this,
beyond any kind of measure.

Dancing in the moonlight,
and hiding in the flowers.
The weeks are so carefree,
that days seem like hours.

From a thousand shades of green,
thats called the emerald isle.
I know their life of merryment,
is really quite worthwhile.

To be a living leprechaun,
is something of what I dream.
For if I really was one,
I would be, held in high esteem.

© Benard Howe