Saint Paddy’s children roam

Paddy’s Wandering Steps



He is in New York

Walking by the side

With a girl with purple hair

They would skit

Accept, not care


He talks in china

to the black hair geisha

In silk

Making her laugh


With hope


She rules in Quebec

Leading a board

Her twang from the lee

Her power from within

The Celtic queen


In Berlin his head

Grows grey from red

His voice the same

The bridges he drew

With pen and love

For the art they knew


They know us well

Its in the voice

They see the green

Among the red wisps

That flow from Celtic

Dreams of freedoms lure


© Francie McGivney 17.03.16