My Guy
He's gallant, he's generous, he's green.
Green as shamrocks in a Sligo field.
Green as broccoli, sugar peas and the
Bells of Ireland growing in his garden.
His bottle green eyes shine brightly
when offered a Baileys, a Guinness,
He's a green golfer yearning
to be a green jacket champ.
He's green as the stripe in Auld Sod's flag.
Green as the lakes in Killarney and Kildare.
When the piper calls him to greener pastures
he'll go in his kelly sweater, emerald socks.
He's gracious, he's gentle, he's genteel...
He’s the garnish on my corned beef and cabbage.
He's my blue plate special, but
he's true blarney green.
Gloria Rovder Healy
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