Happy St. Patrick’s Day! Share your St. Patrick’s Day Poetry in the comments section below. While writing and posting, enjoy an Irish medley of songs, “Chief O Neil’s” followed by “The Red-Haired boy,” performed by Jeff Eardley. Also enjoy the image above suggested by Roy E. Peterson. Thank you, chaps!




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15 Responses

  1. James A. Tweedie

    Jeff, You have a splendid talent and I thank you for sharing it on this auspicious occasion. I recall hearing “Chief O’Neil’s” performed in a Dingle pub on a visit to Ireland in 2019. I can’t say that I enjoyed it any more than I did your recording!

    In any case, here is my contribution in honor of my own family ties with the Jameson family in Dublin–unfortunately of no known relation with the whisky distillers with the same name.

    My great-grandmother left Hibernia
    She sailed first to New York City, then
    By train to Berkeley, California
    And never saw her native land again.

    Her given name was Susan Jameson, a sweet
    Colleen from Dublin when she moved away.
    Her father had a shop on Grafton Street.
    The clocks he made are still well-known today.

    In Berkeley she fell in love and wed
    A lawyer for (and friend of) H.J. Heinz.
    By them my grandmother was born and bred
    Which makes me Irish from these family lines.

    The thing that’s strange is that we’ve yet to find
    Out why she left the Emerald Isle behind.

    • Roy E. Peterson

      I agree on Jeff’s talent and appreciate the music. James, you are so fortunate to know that much about an Irish ancestor. All I know about mine is her name was Susan Clark. She married into my mother’s side of the family (Warburton). My mother told me about her once upon a St. Patrick’s Day, but that is all she knew.

      • Jeff Eardley

        Roy, thanks for your comment and for all the verse today. I agree with Susan on your excellent picture. I have no Irish blood, not that I am aware of, but I was in awe of Irish band, “Planxty” when I saw them live in the 70’s and have been a fan of Irish music ever since. Hope you are raising a glass yourself this evening.

    • Jeff Eardley

      James, thanks for your kind words and your family story which I read with great interest. I guess you must have a trace of Mixolydian DNA which explains your own musical prowess. Cheif O’ Neil was quite a character and after his Chicago cop career ended, he created the city’s connection with Ireland which endures to this day. O’ Neils “Music of Ireland” has been on my bookshelf for decades. I hope you are celebrating with a parting glass or two today.

  2. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Jeff, the music is wonderful, and Roy, the accompanying picture is perfect. Thank you for adding to the joy of St. Patrick’s Day.

  3. Roy E. Peterson


    By Roy E. Peterson (February 22, 2022)

    The color for St. Patrick
    Was once a different hue.
    Shamrock green has since replaced
    The color, which was blue.

    Corned beef and cabbage are
    Now eaten on that day
    Replacing Irish bacon,
    Since it’s cheaper, so they say.

    The first St. Patrick’s Day parade
    Was not in Ireland.
    It was in America where
    The first parade was grand.

    These are three of the traditions
    That have changed the Irish scene.
    The greatest of them all
    Is the wearing of the green.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 22, 2022)

    Everything is dyed green
    On St. Patrick’s Day
    From the Chicago River
    To the Hudson Bay.

    The first green beer appeared
    At a Bronx social club.
    Now the beer appears
    At every Irish pub.

    The year was 1914,
    And a coroner named Curtin
    Unveiled the first green beer.
    That history is certain.

    He said he used a drop of poison
    Known as wash blue
    To change beer to the color shamrock
    For the Irish brew.

    On St. Patrick’s Day
    The Irish men are crowing
    In some Irish pub
    Where the green beer is flowing.

  4. Roy E. Peterson

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 16, 2022)

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 16, 2022)

    There once was a young Irish bloke
    Who climbed in the bathtub to soak.
    He filled it with beer
    Clear up to his ear.
    It cost far too much now he’s broke.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 16, 2022)

    A young lad on St. Patrick’s Day
    Went out for a roll in the hay.
    As he climbed the haymow,
    He was hit by a cow.
    The lass wasn’t there anyway.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 16, 2022)

    A second lad on St. Patrick’s Day
    Went for a roll in the hay.
    Approaching the loft,
    He stepped in something soft.
    The cow did not mind anyway.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 16, 2022)

    The leprechaun’s gold in the pot
    Expanded from getting too hot.
    It rolled down the hill
    To the townspeople’s thrill.
    The leprechaun lost quite a lot.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 16, 2022)

    Johnny had a strange girl in his room.
    Frankie hit him and sealed his doom.
    She caught him there
    In his underwear.
    He died wearing his Fruit of the Loom.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 16, 2022)

    An Irishman, Patrick O’Rourke
    His home duties started to shirk.
    His wife in her frock
    Then cleaned his clock.
    Now nothing of Patrick’s will work.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 21, 2022)

    The Irishman asked for one beer.
    He said, “You can put it in here.”
    He pulled up a keg
    And said. “Fill ‘er up Meg.”
    Now he is drunk on his ear.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 21, 2022)

    An Irishman Grady McKellar
    Was a lazy sort of a fellar.
    He climbed up the stairs
    That needed repairs
    And now he is down in the cellar.

    By Roy E. Peterson (February 23, 2022)

    Gil Brand got a new racing car.
    He claimed he would win and by far.
    The engine caught fire
    As he raced for the wire.
    They call him “Brand new flaming star.”

  5. Roy E. Peterson

    By Roy E. Peterson (March 17, 2013)

    Leroy the lucky leprechaun
    Never slept in bed.
    His pillow was a shamrock pile
    Where he laid his head.
    He carried a shillelagh
    Made from a briar root.
    As Irish tell the story,
    He was a tricky coot.

    Leprechauns are three feet high
    And difficult to see.
    The Irish blame the leprechaun
    For impish deviltry.
    Leroy liked to sneak into
    A house and eat the pie,
    Then drink up all the milk he found
    Before he said goodbye.

    A cook could turn her back
    And her pot would boil over.
    Beside the pot most like as not
    Would be a four leaf clover.
    Sometimes he’d move the furniture,
    Sometimes he’d scare the cat.
    But no one ever saw him,
    Or knew where he was at.

    Don’t ever make him angry,
    Or else he would be crude.
    No table scraps for Leroy,
    Just set aside some food.
    A curse you never wanted
    Upon your house or pet.
    Or else the roof might spring a leak
    And all would end up wet.

    Leprechauns are bachelors
    And just like any man
    They’re happiest when eating
    Or drinking from a can.
    They have a taste for beauty
    And often come at night
    Into a lassie’s bedroom
    And watch her by moonlight.

    Because of all his riches,
    The fairy mothers tried
    To have him take in marriage
    A pretty fairy bride.
    But Leroy knew their magic
    And Leroy knew their spells
    He stayed away from fairy glens
    And fairy wishing wells.

    Leroy loved the lassies
    And frequented the pub.
    O’Malley was the barkeep
    At Dan McGinty’s club.
    He’d hide behind a barrel,
    Then jump up in a chair
    And kiss the blushing maidens
    While playing with their hair.

    Leroy had a pot o’ gold
    Sometimes he’d have to tend,
    Because the hiding place was shown
    By rainbows at their end.
    If you can catch a leprechaun
    And keep him in a hold,
    He has to give you riches
    And give you all his gold.

    O’Malley thought he had him
    Caught behind O’Grady Hill.
    He grabbed him drinking from a keg
    Where he had built a still.
    Leroy told O’Malley,
    “If you will wait right here,
    I’ll go and get the gold for ye
    And riches never fear.’

    O’Malley let old Leroy loose
    To share with him his money.
    Leroy quickly walked away
    And thought it extra funny.
    He picked up kegs of whiskey
    And laughed for seven days.
    O’Malley has not seen a cent,
    Since Leroy ran away.

    Poet Note: This poem was written from researched Irish traditions.

  6. Roy E. Peterson

    Set of Limericks
    By Roy E. Peterson (March 17, 2018)

    When Irish eyes are smiling,
    Her beauty is so beguiling,
    But you better beware,
    She still has red hair,
    And you better stop any lying.

    When Irish eyes are on fire,
    Try the tactic of Barry O’Guire.
    Quick close the door,
    And run for the shore.
    Then hide in the muck and the mire.

    When Irish eyes are crying,
    Someone is going to be dying.
    You hope it’s not you,
    But what can you do?
    You’re safe until dishes start flying.

    When Irish eyes are twinkling,
    You never know what she’s thinking.
    If you made a mistake,
    She is planning your wake.
    So, you better stop drinking.

    Poet Note: With apologies to the beautiful song!

  7. Margaret Coats

    Thanks, Mr. Eardley, Mr. Tweedie, and Col. Peterson, for the day’s entertainment. Roy, you have been working long and hard at Irish pieces, and seem to have hit a speedy spot when you came upon the limerick!

    • Jeff Eardley

      Thanks for your comment Margaret. I hope you had a happy time yesterday. It’s all doom over here at the moment.

  8. Jack DesBois

    Thank you, Jeff, for these great tunes! My grandmother’s maiden name is O’Brien, but her father was an orphan, and I don’t know if the Irish name is biological or adopted. When I listen to Irish music, though, I usually feel sure it’s biological.

    Here’s one of my favorite Irish poems (NOT of my own composing!) by W.B. Yeats:

    Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

    Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
    Enwrought with golden and silver light,
    The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
    Of night and light and the half light,
    I would spread the cloths under your feet:
    But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
    I have spread my dreams under your feet;
    Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

  9. Jeff Eardley

    Jack, a beautiful poem, thank you for bringing it to my attention. Irish music for me was always Planxty and the Chieftains back in the 70’s. In modern times, we have the amazing Transatlantic sessions. Best wishes and good luck with your career. You have a priceless talent.

  10. David Watt

    Jeff, your musical talent shines through. Roy’s limericks and fitting choice of picture add an extra layer of enjoyment to the day.

    Here goes my limerick following the green theme:

    A Fitting Complexion

    An Irishman on Patrick’s Day
    Put ten pints of Guinness away
    Until he turned green
    As the fields of Drumsheen —
    In line with tradition, I’d say!

    • Jeff Eardley

      David, an Irish friend of mine on holiday in Texas was told that a guy on a bar stool was famous Texan, “Red Adair.” He approached him to buy him a drink with, “ Hello Red, and how is Ginger Rogers?”
      I can feel the groans from this side of the globe.
      Best wishes my friend and hope you had a good one.


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