Friday, March 17, 2017

Living it Up and Settling Down

Of late, I’d rather stroll than stomp
Most days I’d rather rest than romp
Wild was fun, and so is tame
The pleasure level is the same

We discover wondrous things
When we spread or fold our wings
Raising hell is such a lift
Landing safe’s an equal gift

The past’s a blast with much to give
But it’s a lousy place to live
Grin for then, but then return
Still much to love and yet to learn

We’re off to see the world, no doubt
Dig the treasure, jump and shout
Of all the fortunes we can find
The Holy Grail is peace of mind

Pequeño Rancho

The best holiday of all is finally upon us: St. Patrick’s Day. Sure, and I may be a bit biased, but bein a leprechaun, it’s to be expected.
“Aren’t you a tad tall for a leprechaun?”
I’m from Texas, and as you know, everything is bigger in Texas, includin yer leprechauns. I guess you could say we’re hybrid leprechauns. The politically correct term is Texichaun.
We lived on a ranch in Shamrock, Texas: The Bonsai Ponderosa. There was Pa, Little Joe, Dinky Hoss, Adam Ant, and me (Tom Thumb). We raised miniature mules and small potatoes. I even had a Shetland shillelagh. Life was hard in those days; we grew up quick and we came up short.
“How does a Texichaun differ from a leprechaun?”
For one thing, at the end of our rainbow there’s a pot of chili. And we celebrate the 17th a bit differently: Instead of drinkin green beer, we drink beer ‘til we turn green. As dusk settles, all gather round the campfire and recite the Leprechaun Manifesto.
“How’s that go?”
It starts out, “Wee the people…”
“My blarney alarm just went off. Hey, look at the time. I gotta get on outta here.”
May the trail rise to meet ye.