Twisty Trees

Twisty Trees

Twisty trees of Irish lore

Leprechauns underneath them snore

Holding tight to their pots of gold

Magical tale is mystically told

The Cliffs of Moher by the sea

Tweed clad man keeps watching me

He seemed to stare into my soul

An Irish myth of days of ole

In the mist, a shadow, a form

Spoke of Dublin before yesterday’s storm

On windy cliffs an orange glow

My ring shimmered while the winds blow

A whirlwind moves across the sky

Blowing cinders in my eye

An Angry sky churns above

Devouring up everyone’s love

A rainbow once stretched across bluish sky

In my mind’s ear I heard a leprechaun cry

You’ll never find my pot of gold

Its hidden with magic unspoken, untold

The end the rainbow you never will find

You’ll search and search until you go blind

Darkness befalls on those who venture near

You are now caught up in my torture sphere

Try as you may to leave this realm

Caught in the branches of my twisty elm

Now you are one with my twisty tree

"Ha Ha," it laughs; "you are now me"

Wimper and wail; no one will hear

Lost in this whirlwind; no where to steer

When you hear the ringing bell

You'll be trapped inside my torture cell

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

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Congratulations on the contest! I had to check your poem out and it is truly a piece of art. Wonderful imagination involved with your poetic words. I'll never mess with a Leprechaun, 'tis for sure!