2009 -- 1.2 (Spring) Poetry

To an Irish Father by P. J. German ~ep

Greetings Lad!

      Let me kill the fattest calf fer ya!

It’s about time I show ya just how much ya mean to me.

      Don’t know if ya understand how grateful I am

            To have ya as a father.

Thanks fer all the daddy warbucks ya lent me;

      I promise I’ll be payin it back

All the times we had playin sports;

      And wit yer broken back and all!

            Now that is a father who loves his children!
All the wisdom ya shared,

      Which hold a great deal of teachings fer me.

            And you though I wasn’t listenin; ha!

Looks like I fooled you, lad!

                              I learned a lot.
      I couldn’t be alive if I weren’t fer you.

(And I think we all know how that goes!)
But on a serious note,

      Thans dad! You’re a lad who ‘as made me life a joyous one;

            And you ‘av given me many blarney stones.
Now! let us mash those potatoes and search fer that pot o’ gold.

      The leprechauns are comin’,

            And we don’t want to meddle with them do we?