by Sarah Earlene Shere, ©2023

(Mar. 17, 2023) —

“Lis’ now, wee one,
To my tale of Gus O’Flannigan,

“A member of the folk of fae,
Who’s crock of gold lures some away.

“‘Twas on a night, much like this, when I heard the banshee keen,
Then turned to see your father gone and ne’re more to be seen.

“‘Twas the lure of fairy gold, sought at rainbow’s end,
And the glimpse of a man named O’Flannigan.”

The child cared not about the warning,
Till upon a misty morning,

When he heard the long grass stir,
And felt a thought start to lure.

The lad ran home, as fast he could, and questioned not again,
His darling mother when she warned of Gus O’Flannigan.

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