Dónall Dempsey

Veteran Poet - 1,356 Points (15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

Crock Of Gold(For Lyn) - Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Twisted crooked man
little as a leprechaun

tin whistle
stuck in his smile

eyes closed

fingers dancing

as if it
were playing
him.

His hat
overflowing

with the sound
of coin upon coin

the crowd
charmed

enraptured

as if hypnotised

as if the rainbow
ended here

& he
playing with all his heart

...the crock of gold.


Comments about Crock Of Gold(For Lyn) by Dónall Dempsey

  • (4/11/2008 1:11:00 PM)


    AHA! Now we know the secret to keeping the hat on your head, away from the grasp of the wind - - fill it with gold! Great solution, D of D! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 11, 2008

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 1, 2008


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