IRISH BOYS (she shoots daggers)

Location: Boston

IRISH BOYS

Once upon a time
In a land far from Brigid’s shore
A young lass did sit
On a Fenway building’s third floor

The day was lovely outside
Sunny
Bright
Breezy
But this lass was more than a little uneasy

For, once again, an Irish boy was in the picture.
So cute.
Funny.
Sweet.
Polite.
Could literally drive this lass to flight.

When first they met,
She held her ground
Thought it through
And knew exactly what she wanted to do

Busy hiding behind his Great Wall
She took to being his friend
And that was all.

Though she has more than a bit of a crush
She figured it was best
And, really, what was the rush?

But, now, now, you see
Time has just flown by
And now she’s ready to flee

Why, you ask, incredulously?
An Irish boy?!
So cute.
Funny.
Sweet.
Polite.
What could drive this lass to flight?

Fighters the Irish are by nature.
Fire.
Heart.
Stubborness.
All amounting to men being giant pains in the arse!

Removed a generation or two
Makes no difference to these boys
To rebel yells they answer
Not to girls.

So this lass sits in her third floor station
Unsure and uneasy
And about out of patience

She asks St. Brigid what to do
But no answer is coming through
So she waits and waits and waits
For a silly boy to make his choice.

I am here, she wants to scream.
In a pink sundress and heals
Wishing that she had the mental means
To fall for a less complicated boy
Of Italian, German, French or Scottish genes!

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IRISH BOYS (she shoots daggers)