past friends

 

On a street across the emerald green island,

Was an unseen circle of cobblestones,

A strange green light burst from the cracks,

Along with ancient musical Irish tones.

 

Suddenly an unnoticed jade tornado grew,

Disturbing the stones long term bed,

Green plumes of timeless swirling flames,

Grew so quickly, towering over head.

 

Passers by were in awe of the sights,

The revelry of Dublin was all around,

Temple bars serving Ireland’s finest,

Thousands of sorrows were drowned.

 

They didn’t notice the army arriving,

The original defenders of the realm,

A platoon of wary leprechauns came,

Their great leader Fionn at the helm.

 

Fionn was the king of the leprechauns,

He was chosen by defeating the beast,

Now he leads a small group of recruits,

In a strange land that he knows the least.

 

With noise and magic all around them,

Fantastic beasts rolling down roads,

Brightly coloured lights hiding the stars,

Plaques and signs written in codes.

 

Crowds of every nation bustled blind,

Intoxicated on Dublin’s own craic,

Bumping and barging Fionn’s followers,

Who went to the Liffe back to back.

 

In their own island of timeless safety,

The ultimate formation to defend,

Parting the waves of ceaseless parties,

Set apart from times that have no end.

 

Arriving on the banks of the old river,

Stagnated and abused water flowed,

The fenced off, concreted riversides,

Caged to make way for man’s road.

 

Big tears welled up in Fionn’s eyes,

The green rolling hills had moved,

This shining forest of stone structures,

Ireland definitely hadn’t improved.

 

Suddenly the group were attacked,

Another platoon surrounded them,

Strangely dressed in capes and masks,

Speaking odd words out of rhythm.

 

One huge man approached Fionn.

A fearsome opponent he would be,

He took the leprechaun by the hand,

And the man shook it most heartily.

 

The platoons combined that night,

Took on all the many temple bars,

Made merry, painted Dublin green,

Listening to loads of Irish guitars.

 

In the morning with heads complaining,

Sadly it was time to leave for the past,

The new platoon of the best of friends,

Parted with great memories amassed.

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