A Leprechaun’s Gaze
http://aaronpocock.wordpress.com/
*
Loose ends were tied, the message sent,
as I walked on in merriment.
With ruddy arms I build a cairn
that lies a ways past yonder barn.
.
One piece of gold I have in tow,
my back faced to the winds that blow.
This growing monumental mound
will hide my grief on sacred ground.
.
A daily prayer, a daily grind,
a rock a day to ease my mind.
“To reach the sky! To find my love!
To live the dream I’m dreaming of!”
.
The brook once reached beyond these hills,
her streams left banks for bigger thrills.
A few returned to pay their dues,
whose lovely stones I can’t refuse.
.
To my surprise, when I arrived,
this little man did sit beside
the running water, clear and sweet,
biding his time, soaking his feet.
.
His clothes were rent, his hair unkept,
his gaze locked in the days lament.
The solitary of the fool
’twas felt on my side of the pool.
.
He raised his head, and looked my way,
and nodded at me, as if to say,
“No need to fear, no need to hide.”
I crossed on over to his side.
.
He bade me, “Come! You need a rest!”
He drew his flask, “Please, be my guest!”
My guard withdrawn, my throat gone dry,
my pity for the man ran high.
.
The sun had yet begun to set,
so down I sat with no regret.
Refreshing wine he passed to me,
I gave a toast to harmony.
.
I asked him how he knew this place,
a smile flashed across his face.
Wrinkles deepened to disguise
the teary trails of Rainbow Eyes.
.
I waited long for his reply,
the hours slowly crept on by.
I could not let him get away,
though night be setting on the day.
.
“What are you thinking?”, I decried.
He seemed to take it all in stride.
I thought him dead, but then he rose,
and brushed the cobwebs off his nose.
.
Padding pockets, feeling around,
his fingers dug until they found
a quaint little book that looked quite old,
filled with stories never told.
.
As he began to tell his tale,
“Reflections On The Wishing Well”
the elderberries cast their spell,
into the deepest sleep I fell.
.
Though dreams do come, they always pass,
there are no curtain calls at last.
My soul must surely understand
why ends meet up in Wonderland.
.
I must have slept away the night,
my brain was throbbing in delight,
with recollections blur and dim,
and I don’t see the likes of him.
.
An Elder tree had sheltered me,
I thanked him very graciously.
Methinks he knows why men grow small,
why life grows short, whilst tales grow tall.
.
In retrospect, I do reflect,
it was a case of self neglect.
My daily prayer, my daily grind,
a rock a day, I’d had in mind.
.
Then slowly it came back to me,
I had to jog my memory.
The words he read, the things I said,
fell into place inside my head.
.
‘Twas then I thought to check and see
if I still had my piece with me,
the piece of gold I keep in tow,
that brings me luck where’er I go.
.
The pouch hung empty on my belt.
You can’t imagine how I felt!
The trickster played me, this I knew,
I had to hope that dreams come true.
.
Bewildered and a wee dismayed,
aghast at just how far I strayed,
but that’s what happens when you roam.
I scoffed it off and headed home.
.
The skies grew dark to cloud my pain,
I paused to scan the woods again.
I’d no good reason to remain
in the throes of a driving rain.
.
The winds picked up, as did my pace,
a branch swooped down to slap my face.
This forest seemed to have the gall,
I wished to hang it on a wall.
.
The leprechaun was now far-gone.
The early morning storm moved on.
My coat was drenched, I hungered still
for daily bread, fresh from the mill.
.
The sun came out to be my guest,
and drove the rain off to the west.
Gazing upon the looking glass,
this top performer showed his class.
.
The sky put on her Sunday best,
she wore the rainbow like a vest.
I fancied over those two ends,
one could land where my porch begins.
.
I had a hunch my luck had changed.
Priorities were rearranged.
Forget the cairn past yonder barn,
I’m going home to spin a yarn.
.
By then I had the barn in sight,
my legs obliged with all their might.
The little man came back to mind.
Had he been here? What might I find?
.
I passed the barn, rounded the bend,
this journey was about to end.
At last, I caught sight of my home,
and spied a gift left by the gnome.
.
All in all, if truth be told,
there was no promised pot of gold.
But I was in for a surprise,
the gift came from ol’ Rainbow Eyes!
.
I ran towards my door to see
this bag, and what’s in store for me.
The leather pouch, a little tote,
held just three things, one was a note.
.
There also was my lucky charm,
I knew right then he meant no harm.
That piece of gold I always tow,
sure brings me luck where’er I go!
.
Then one last look was all it took.
I gazed upon his little book,
a book that he bequeathed to me,
a gift that soon would set me free.
.
Then down I sat to read the note,
the very last words my father wrote.
*
THE END
*****
***
*
(cairn: a mound of stones erected as a memorial or marker)
“Reflections On The Wishing Well”
©


February 16, 2010 at 12:10 pm
thanks for sharing this wonderful poem
February 16, 2010 at 12:19 pm
Now, you drink down that elderberry wine, y’hear
Flu becomes the present tense. OO
I’d forgotten about ol’ Rainbow Eyes…. gotya
February 16, 2010 at 2:09 pm
A softly told but well spun tale.
February 16, 2010 at 11:49 pm
You’re quite welcome,
Poet of the o’s!
February 17, 2010 at 12:10 am
I ended up with viral bronchitis, Ed.
It was causing a little bit of pressure
on the left side of my chest, and the Doc
said, “Go to the ER, asap!” So I did.
An anxious moment or two ensued,
but I stayed calm, and drove myself there.
It was Monday, and I knew the stats.
Anyway, it was quite the ordeal.
Flirting with the nurses was fun, tho.
They shaved my chest, and now it itches.
Talk about tense, I was the present.
Rainbow Eyes? A great song by Rainbow.
You may not have heard it…just believe me.
Gotya back! Mail me a bottle of that stuff. Okay?
February 17, 2010 at 12:15 am
Thank you, Mark!
I’m an early bird catcher, yes,
but green will soon be fashionable.
Tree my word.
February 17, 2010 at 3:39 am
Dear UT,
I just dropped by to see what condition my Condition was in! You’re better than the Brothers Grimm.
You’re poem puts me into a non-objective state of calm contemplation, (somewhat like a warm milk bath, if that be possible). Me wonders, how is that so?
Catch you in another six months.
A Majority of One
February 17, 2010 at 11:22 am
How is that so?
Berries, gold, and Sherry, baby.
Dropping in from the sky like that made me smile.
And I’m still smiling. See!
Your condition is comparatively Grimm.
That was an awfully fine compliment, dear one.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
If you lay under a milk cow you may be showered.
That’s probably clean enough for most of us.
6 months? I think I’m gonna cry now.
Bye, bye! UT (Every Breathe You Take) Well, I’ll be!
February 18, 2010 at 4:24 am
Sounds as if you have all been drinking honky tonk tequilla and then startin to feel all weird-like listening to bands whose first and middle names were assembly of
February 19, 2010 at 12:49 am
Am I supposed to finish that sentence?
Honky Tonk
Tequila
Hmmm…
February 22, 2010 at 12:23 am
IT IS THAT TIME OF YEAR TO REMEMBER THE LITTLE MAN AGAIN.
February 22, 2010 at 12:42 am
It’s a little early, I know,
but they’re always around, big bro.
Feeling lucky, or what?
February 22, 2010 at 4:07 am
I can’t remember the band’s name that sang honkey tonk tequila but it said something like drinking honkey tonk tequila and startin to feel like that man just might be kin to my first born son.
The Assembly of Dust had weird lyrics talking about tree limbs cradling some baby
February 22, 2010 at 11:32 am
Hot Buttered Rum
is the band I found
for that song, Dusty.
AOD is a new one on me too.
Feeling all weird-like is knot.
Being second-born comes naturally
to a tree that sees no rising son.
But Grandpa Tree might look good on me someday,
if that’s what the future happens to hold. It leaves me
hoping for the seeds of Time that are halfway formed already.
February 25, 2010 at 3:56 pm
Again I read and read and you amaze me with every word you write…..
February 25, 2010 at 10:59 pm
Thank you, Bettie Jo!
I’m glad you finally climbed up and into my house,
and happy I am to have amazed you, at least a wee bit.
February 26, 2010 at 5:18 am
So, I admittedly have a very short attention span and tend not to like long, story-telling poems, but I absolutely adore this piece! The story itself is clever and well developed. Then the poetry and imagery are beautiful as well. And of course the rhythm and rhyme are right on point. That is something that I have always loved about your writing. I have, unfortunately, read several poets’ blogs recently who fail miserably at this. (Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them that. That would be cruel.) But seriously, I appreciate the flow.
Cheers!
February 26, 2010 at 9:01 am
Greetings Uncle Tree..
Thank you kindly for sending me your enchanting writing. This is a very lovely poem with great imagery. Many ‘longer’ poems tend to lose the natural “roll off of the tongue” feel; often they end up with a lack of fluidity, but yours did not. It all flowed so naturally. Great job, and interesting story.
Did you create the drawing as well? I like it.
I’m not really one to review or critique poetry too harshly, as poetry is such an open form of art. There really are no universal rules to it..and that is, perhaps why I like it so much. I write a lot of poetry myself, however i haven’t had the time to post any of it to my blog yet. Anyway..if I had to lend any sort of criticism, I’d say that it was a tad bit long…and a few parts seemed to..wander? Nevertheless, any issues I had with it were incredibly minor, and hardly what I would call issues in the first place. I simply enjoyed the piece, and that’s what matters. You told a wonderful story, it flowed brilliantly, and you’ve inspired me to learn more of Leprechauns.
So yes..it was lovely indeed! Would you mind if I posted this to my blog, with a link back to you? It will be..my first featured poem..or something.
.
Oh, and by the way..I rather loved this stanza:
“I asked him how he knew this place,
a smile flashed across his face.
Wrinkles deepened to disguise
the teary trails of Rainbow Eyes.”
Such lovely imagery..the teary trails of rainbow eyes.
Brightest blessings..
Tyrion Frost.
February 26, 2010 at 8:32 pm
still crushing on your poetry!
February 26, 2010 at 11:10 pm
Lady Socratesoul,
That was a stupendous compliment, and I am super flattered!
I’m so glad you liked my rhythmical rhyming tale. Thank you 2X!!
I should come up with a tune so I can sing it as I tell it. Huh?
Cheerz back!
February 26, 2010 at 11:50 pm
Absolutely, you may, Tyrion! It wood be an honor.
I very much appreciate the gesture, and I thank you for your kindness!
That was a great review, and I couldn’t have asked for more. Oh, I know
it’s a tad bit long, but that’s what happens when you play: Show and Tell.
For me, making a long story short is more difficult than making a short
story long. Anywayz, leprechauns are allowed to have families, I believe.
I’d also like to thank you for getting into the particulars. That certainly
helps me to know what’s what, what works, and what you got out of it.
The drawing is by someone I recently met whilst playing with leprechaun
‘tags’. His name is Aaron Pocock, and his link is at the top o’ the page.
He is incredibly talented, and he does these wicked trees. I wish to have
him do a caricature of me, too. This dream of mine just may come true.
Thank you again, my friend, and bless you! (I’ll drop you an e-mail soon.)
February 26, 2010 at 11:55 pm
I owe you an everlasting “THANK YOU!”, Cindy
February 27, 2010 at 4:27 am
Uncle Tree… You’re the real thing. I’ve lived in ‘Celtic’ Britain for many years and you capture the feeling, the meaning, and express it truly!
February 27, 2010 at 1:04 pm
Thank you, Aaron!
I’m very happy now that I know, and I’m
extremely glad that you liked me poem!
Thanks for the kudos, AND thanks for
spreading the dirt on old Uncle Tree’s roots!
*
Hey, Everybody!
I highly encourage you to visit Aaron’s website.
Feast your eyes upon his fantastically amazing gallery, and you will
walk away with a wonder-filled sense for the fabulous, guaranteed!
Miraculously enough, he’s agreed to create and produce a portrait
of me as Uncle Tree. I’ve been stupefied by the magnitude of the
moment once or twice in my life, and this event will go down in my
book as one of those far-out reaches when I’ve truly been touched.
A make-over of the most fictitious kind. Yipee!!! Stay tuned! UT
February 27, 2010 at 8:13 pm
Thanks for commenting on my blog and leading me to your wonderful writings. You have a spectacular gift for wording.
Jessica
February 27, 2010 at 10:46 pm
That is a fine compliment, Jessica!
I’m glad you enjoyed it, and I thank you very much!
You have a sharp-looking site yourself, and I like
the ingenious word you’ve created to use for your name.
My lips and tongue are having fun with fictionistafiles.
Nice to meet you, and thanks for stopping by! Cheerz, UT
March 1, 2010 at 9:04 pm
I’ve been away from Uncle Tree’s house for far too long! Each visit pulls a smile from me!
March 1, 2010 at 11:43 pm
Good to see you again, Bryan!
I was hoping you’d like this one of mine.
Or my new picture. But that’s okay.
Thanks for popping in any ol’ way.
Smiling back, UT
March 2, 2010 at 9:56 pm
beautiful.
and thanks for the good wishes, of course.
it had a rustic, folksy feel to it.
thank you for your comments in my blog. i was happy to see someone had discovered it
i love what you’ve done with this blog, by the way.. the layout and the pictures. just gorgeous!
March 3, 2010 at 12:32 am
Thank you, sparrow!
You’re welcome AND you’re welcome!
You love it? That’s good! Thank you again!
I agree wholeheartedly. Believe me, I got lucky.
I met Aaron whilst chasing leprechaun ‘tags’. Like I said,
sometimes meeting strangers pays off, strange as that may sound.
That’s how I ran into Tyrion Frost, too. (Up there in comment #18.)
He’s a book reviewer, and I may be responsible for the very first piece
of poetry he’s ever critiqued on his blog. I think that’s pretty neat-oh.
I’m from a small town, therefore the folksy feel comes natural.
Nice to meet you! We’re no longer unacquainted, my friendly bird. UT
March 3, 2010 at 9:40 pm
oh, that’s cool. i’ve checked out tyrion’s blog and i think it’s neat that he does reviews. i’ve never seen a blog like that before. also, it gave me the idea to read that book Precious (which was one of the movies he reviewed).
heh. indeed, i am a friendly bird. i got this name from charles bukowski’s novel Pulp, where in the end the protagonist is sucked into the mouth (or beak) of a giant red sparrow. it’s not clear, however, whether this is real or not.
i’ll be visiting for more soon. blogs are great for distracting me from essay-work
March 4, 2010 at 12:14 am
Pulp
Haven’t read it, but people know I’m full of it.
Hello, Sparrow! Isn’t Precious a word I use to describe…
moments are precious and few. Have you heard of Climax?
It’s a band really. I’m not making that up. A one-hit wonder…
Where was I? Oh, uh…yeah. I love song sparrows. Do they ever
sing about leprechauns, you think? Green Irish sparrows know a tune
or two about ‘em, I bet. “it’s not clear, however, whether this is
real or not.” You are spot on with that one, girl! Same here.
You are welcome to visit all you wish. Human beings
love to be distracted. They’re a curious lot.
What are you going to teach them?
I don’t like worms.
UT
March 4, 2010 at 4:37 am
lol. well, who knows if it’s real or not. it feels real, but there are certainly arguments against reality (if you’ve ever read any descartes).
Precious is a novel about an african-american girl who comes from an abusive home and has been raped. i’m not sure about the details. it seems like a worthwhile novel.
heh. yes. wthout distraction the mind dwindles.
i’ll teach them a lot. some of my madness will be transferred into my students. the classrooms will be lots of fun. i think i’ll be fond of teaching shakespeare above all.
March 4, 2010 at 4:41 am
oh no, i’m afraid i’ve gotten things completely wrong!
the MOVIE is called Precious: based on the novel Push by Sapphire. So the novel is called Push. that’s what i want to read.
March 4, 2010 at 11:05 am
*
Reality
For and against
Oh, I love to toy with
the medium in which we live.
The English Student is now a major
in the Salvation Army, or is that Salvage?
I’ve been keeping an eye out for an editor.
Maybe, I’ll meet one, like I met Aaron and Tyrion.
Long story…The Hanging Tree Of Bedlam waits on me.
How about you? Link me up with a work you’re proud of. OK?
My latest reading consisted of a book or two by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
I was in the middle of The Brothers Karamazov when I stopped
to start a story of my own. I’m not sure what got into me,
but something stirred me to action, and now it’s gone.
One of these days, the will to go on will come back.
Short story…that’s what it was supposed to be.
Things don’t always go as planned, as you
have probably learned by this time.
Perhaps, I’ll ask you for advice,
so run now if need be.
I’m up against
Re-al-i-tree
*
In case you’re interested, here is the introduction:
http://me2watson.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/the-hanging-tree-of-bedlam/
March 4, 2010 at 11:43 am
am I in trouble again Uncle Tree?
I swear to god I asked before I took that bible. The deal was I told him I would read it. I read the first five pages, I am just taking a break from it for a little bit.
March 4, 2010 at 11:57 am
Well, Dusty,
that depends on whether or not
you started with the Old Testament.
If I were you, I’d start over, and
begin with the Good News for modern man.
That’s where you’ll find the end of the rainbow.
March 4, 2010 at 12:08 pm
please don’t take this the wrong way, I know I joke around with the subject and due to that some people think I really am, however I’m attracted to women.
In high school when I had a rainbow sticker on my car (only for two weeks) I didn’t know what it symbolized, I thought it just meant “happiness”
March 5, 2010 at 12:15 am
Dusty Dustin,
I never took you for that kind of guy.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you.
I’m attracted to this. This…this…you know what I mean.
Rainbows symbolize a promise. No more floods. Remember Noah?
Well, so much for promises. That’s why I abhor making them.
Climate change is a deal we’ve made with you-know-who.
Everyone’s house will be on a big, sandy beach ball,
and all the water will be inside of that.
What gold?
March 6, 2010 at 1:37 pm
For those of you who might be interested,
Tyrion Frost has posted a review of this particular piece:
http://tyrionfrost.wordpress.com/
I enjoyed it immensely!
March 7, 2010 at 11:35 pm
thank you, uncle tree, for the kind words.
indeed, i am a busy girl. but i am a girl who likes to keepy busy; my brain just withers if i’ve got nothing to do. the novel is great for times then i have lee-way in school, and vice versa. and school (education, in general) helps a lot with my writing.
i would definitely send you a bit of it, but (because of what i mentioned on the blog) it is going to undergo MAJOR changes in editing.. such drastic changes that i cannot even begin to send samples.
yes, i think i’ve found a solution. i had a very long discussion with one of my good friends–who is also a writer–and she helped me sort some things out. it was a little brutally honest, but great at the end and i am happier for it.
March 8, 2010 at 1:34 am
This is a work of art… I absolutely loved reading this and the ending was both unexpected and a delight. you are talented…. And so I shall be looking for my rainbow eyes…. Thank you for sharing.. and please keep writing and sharing your talent…
March 8, 2010 at 11:48 am
Dear Sparrow,
For Uncle Tree, wither is a word
I unconsciously avoid. It brings to mind
certain other not-so picturesque ideas and terms.
Like wilt, malnourished, starvation, and the ungodly thought
that comes at the-end-of-the-road. I’m hungry,
come to think of it. My coffee had now
dissipated, my uniform’s on…Monday.
Nuff said, methinks.
I wish you luck as you go through your drastically MAJOR changes
with your book, along the the many changes you’ll encounter in
the rest of your life. You’re a young lady, so Time is on your side.
I’m glad you have found a close-by helper. Honesty doesn’t have
to be brutal. Your expectations set you up to perceive it that way.
It’s not your fault, nor is it a curse. You know who you are. Yes?
You’re welcome for the encouraging words. We all need more of
those, I believe. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. They’ll be more.
Have a great day, sweet bird!
March 8, 2010 at 11:59 am
Hey, Beachgirl!
Egads! Look what time it is.
I’m really glad you like my faery tale, and the way I brought about
the end, which sort of occurred on it’s own, thanks to one word
that popped into my head. That word was ‘bequeathed’. Wah-lah!
It fit, and it worked out, the way I see it. I’ve enjoyed meeting you.
Thank you for all the compliments you’ve given to me!
Take care, be good, and stay safe on the water.
March 9, 2010 at 3:30 am
Beautiful poetry. Rich in possibility. Thanks for bringing me into your wonderful page.
March 9, 2010 at 2:22 pm
Beautiful, gentle and emotionally swaying… I loved your story.
March 9, 2010 at 11:56 pm
Thank you, Madame!
Your leprechaun poem takes the cake. An ingenious surprise
lays in store for all of my friends who dare to seek you out.
.
Put your smiles on, people! And if you dare,
be prepared to blush and giggle.
March 12, 2010 at 1:26 pm
“Then one last look was all it took.
I gazed upon his little book,
a book that he bequeathed to me,
a gift that soon would set me free.”
There’s nothing sweeter than having freedom
Free to be who you want to be
free from all comments of everyone
just free from everything around you
you can spread your wings
like a lovely butterfly
ready to set her very first flight
we find freedom in so many ways
so many ways that are so hard to find sometimes
March 12, 2010 at 11:36 pm
Hello, Rhee!
Good to see you, and thanks for stopping by!
“Reflections On The Wishing Well” was the name of that little book.
I was free to leave the door open, so I did. Some day I may have to
fill in the pages with the stories and adventures of ol’ Rainbow Eyes.
A leprechaun’s diary of sorts. Tales, quandaries and magical moments
await the touch of my keys…or my pen, or whatever works w/charms.
Speaking of freedom…I chain myself to sweet ethereal things.
I am a slave to love. I also believe I am enslaved to my briefly mentioned
belief systems. If I were to act as free as I wish to be, I’d be in jail.
Cops are not free to leave you alone if you break one of their laws.
So I can’t be free alone. Everyone has to join in for this thing to work.
I like the way you said it! Those were well-chosen words. Weren’t they?
It sounds very true the first time through. What more can you ask?
Have a nice weekend? Oh, yeah! Please do.
Yes, yes. Starting now. (Good luck with that!) UT
March 17, 2010 at 11:45 am
Happy St. Patricks Day…. Rainbow eyes has a lovely lovely face… thanks for sharing… Beachgirl…
March 17, 2010 at 3:43 pm
I’m glad you think so, Beachgirl!
Aaron’s a wonderful man,
full of surprises.
It has been, and still is a good day.
Hope your day’s been great, too.
(This Guinness is strong stuff.)
Cheers to harmony!!! UT
March 21, 2010 at 10:45 am
that is gorgeous uncle tree. took my breath away. and filled the air with color. just beautiful, thanks.
March 21, 2010 at 1:14 pm
Thank you very, very much, Katerine!
So…
This is Meister Tree’s masterpiece, as far as he be concerned.
Breathe deep, honey child, and keep to the story in your eyes.
You, with your overwhelming kindness, will always be welcome here!
March 17, 2011 at 5:41 am
HaPpY SaInT PaTrIcK’s DaY, 2011, my friends!
March 3, 2012 at 10:46 am
i love this ! :}
March 3, 2012 at 1:08 pm
March 9, 2012 at 6:18 pm
I love it! Did you write it?
Thanks so much for the comment! Cheers!
March 9, 2012 at 6:29 pm
Absolutely, I did! I lovingly call it -
Glad you liked it. Thank you!
my masterpiece – the rhyming and timing
helped me to write this story. Believe it, or knot.
March 16, 2012 at 6:46 am
Love your blog! Nice poem here, too!
March 16, 2012 at 5:21 pm
Hi, Cheryl! Thank ye dearly for the visit!
Glad you liked this.
January 8, 2013 at 5:50 pm
You have found the gold here, and a rainbow or three!
January 8, 2013 at 5:58 pm
But it’s so long…then again, rainbows can’t be measured.
Glad you liked it, Niamh. I’m relieved. Whew.
Thank you, Lady Clune!
January 8, 2013 at 5:59 pm
March 17, 2013 at 3:18 am
Reblogged this on Uncle Tree's House and commented:
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, 2013! From Uncle Tree