Resident Scholars of the A.P.I.
Happy St. Patrick's Day
Last night I dreamed in green. Last night I dreamed about snakes. Last night an ancient Celt whispered in my ear, "they've got it all wrong, St. Patrick didn't drive the snakes from Ireland".
The story told was this........
You see, the snakes being without legs and all, could not partake when the folk did those high-steppin' dances. The snakes suffered so, for they were spirited and admired those dances.
When the Irish gathered in pubs, to toast with mugs of ale, the snakes were left to hang their heads in the brew, for they lacked the arms for hoistin'.
It got worse yet, whenever those snakes heard that song, When Irish Eyes are smilin'. Try as they might with eyes set, one on one side, and the other on the other, no snake was ever known to get it's eyes together enough to smile.
'Tis as plain as day where this tragic tale is headin'. With the strength of the Irish people livin in their words, and their hearts and souls reaching to the Heavens in song, what were the snakes to do? Never were words so beautifully and enchantingly spoken as when expressed by the Irish poets. When melodies were sung, never were the voices so pure and harmonious. The snakes, inspired by such lamentations and joyous musings, opened their mouths. They expected poetry, they expected melody, yet nothing but barely audible, raspy hisses were to be heard.
No creature has ever felt such humiliation. Nor has any creature tried so hard to be what it wasn't. Not only were the serpents heartbroken, but they turned green with envy. Such torn and suffering creatures could do naught but leave Ireland forever. One dark and moonless night they slithered away. It was not the sainted Patrick who drove the snakes from Ireland....it was SHAME!
The Irish whisperer in my dream had almost finished the tale of Erin's serpents when he asked, "Do you know where the descendents of those legless, armless, smileless, voiceless creatures are now"? "No", I whispered.
He went on to tell me...............
They slithered out of Ireland and crossed the sea to the new world. There, they joined creatures of a similar nature, and developed serpentine ways. There, they learned to sidewind, and they sidewinded themselves all the way to the White House. That's where the sorry serpents are today, rulin' the world from their snakepit in Washington D.C. and St. Patrick had nothing to do with it.
I woke up with new understanding. The Irish are lucky because they are rid of the snakes and we Americans are unlucky because our government has become a sanctuary for vipers. Isn't it strange that the Irish don't celebrate their snakeless holiday but we do? I still don't know why St. Patrick took credit for what the Irish people did just by being themselves but I wish you and yours...........A Happy St. Patrick's Day..........anyway.
Erin go bragh............
..........................Kitchen Window Woman
The story told was this........
You see, the snakes being without legs and all, could not partake when the folk did those high-steppin' dances. The snakes suffered so, for they were spirited and admired those dances.
When the Irish gathered in pubs, to toast with mugs of ale, the snakes were left to hang their heads in the brew, for they lacked the arms for hoistin'.
It got worse yet, whenever those snakes heard that song, When Irish Eyes are smilin'. Try as they might with eyes set, one on one side, and the other on the other, no snake was ever known to get it's eyes together enough to smile.
'Tis as plain as day where this tragic tale is headin'. With the strength of the Irish people livin in their words, and their hearts and souls reaching to the Heavens in song, what were the snakes to do? Never were words so beautifully and enchantingly spoken as when expressed by the Irish poets. When melodies were sung, never were the voices so pure and harmonious. The snakes, inspired by such lamentations and joyous musings, opened their mouths. They expected poetry, they expected melody, yet nothing but barely audible, raspy hisses were to be heard.
No creature has ever felt such humiliation. Nor has any creature tried so hard to be what it wasn't. Not only were the serpents heartbroken, but they turned green with envy. Such torn and suffering creatures could do naught but leave Ireland forever. One dark and moonless night they slithered away. It was not the sainted Patrick who drove the snakes from Ireland....it was SHAME!
The Irish whisperer in my dream had almost finished the tale of Erin's serpents when he asked, "Do you know where the descendents of those legless, armless, smileless, voiceless creatures are now"? "No", I whispered.
He went on to tell me...............
They slithered out of Ireland and crossed the sea to the new world. There, they joined creatures of a similar nature, and developed serpentine ways. There, they learned to sidewind, and they sidewinded themselves all the way to the White House. That's where the sorry serpents are today, rulin' the world from their snakepit in Washington D.C. and St. Patrick had nothing to do with it.
I woke up with new understanding. The Irish are lucky because they are rid of the snakes and we Americans are unlucky because our government has become a sanctuary for vipers. Isn't it strange that the Irish don't celebrate their snakeless holiday but we do? I still don't know why St. Patrick took credit for what the Irish people did just by being themselves but I wish you and yours...........A Happy St. Patrick's Day..........anyway.
Erin go bragh............
..........................Kitchen Window Woman
posted by Kitchen Window Woman at 6:40 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home