Little Ireland N.Y. Poem by louis rams

SAINT PATRICK S DAY
LITTLE IRELAND N.Y.

It was going to be another SAINT PATRICK S DAY in New York
But what they was planning was just talk.
Every year new Yorkers would be dressed in green
Which in itself was a sight to be seen.

The New York police with their marching bands
Would always be there to give a hand.
The people all lined up on Manhattan streets
Trying to get a front row seat.

Children with their four leaf clovers on their faces
And the elderly showing their finest silks and laces.
OH! The pride in all their eyes was something they could not hide.
They would talk about centuries of leprechaun tales
And how people would hide their gold
In the bottoms of their coal pails
or hide them deep In the ground
in the hope that it wouldn't be found.

Now! Any family that had a surname that started off
With Mc or Mac was the first ones
the leprechauns would attack.
For they were known to have businesses
through out the land, and lots of gold in their hands.

And the ones that started with the letter "o"
(o keefe - o donnell) had a little less and it was told.

Now this is folklore we all know
But they still search for that " pot o gold ".
Strange as this may all seem - in their eyes you'll see a "gleam."

Is it because they know something that we don't know?
Or is it just an Irish show?