I'm making this up as I go along...
Forgive me if it's crap... I don't write poetry.
The pale moon was rising oe'r the irish sea
As the young St. Patrick arrived in captivity.
Ten years of sheparding and lonely nights,
Tending sheep in mountainous heights
Led Patrick back to his native Wales
With ship full tilt and winded sales.
Till when one night, in a hazy dream
Spoke to Patrick, an Angel, in heavenly gleam.
Go back to Ireland, bring with you God,
Convert the Celts on their native sod.
So back he came to Irish shores,
And there he quelled the pagan's roars.
He converted Kings on Tara's Hill,
Turned into a deer at his own will,
From the Curse the Children of Lir he saved,
For Ireland, the way of Christianity he paved.
March 17th was his dying day,
Downpatrick the hill where he last lay.
In him we have our Patron Saint,
And through him Pride which will not faint.
He is remembered today by emerald green,
Like the hills of Ireland and valleys between
By Ireland's children, from Earth's either side,
A day for Ireland, and her children's pride.
I honestly just wrote that myself... I dunno if it's any good or not... But I'm holding the copyright on that! I better not see it published in some book or in a song!!! Lol.