Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Ireland Acrostic

I reland always beckoning:
R ainbows and pots of gold;
E merald Isle ever glistening in Celtic tales of old.
L eprechauns, lurking, listening;
A ncient Druids by Saints redeemed.
N omad offspring seek those green shores,
D rawn to Eire like ancient reckoning.


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