“A half pint an’ a glass
And the blessing of this saintly day on
Your pint pulling Irish ways.
What did you say your name was again?”
“Donna,” I said, with the cheesy grin..
“Remember you’re Irish,” he winked
Suppin’ the froth off his creamy pint.
“I’m only half…”
What’s that you say? Will I have a half?
Oh girl I thought that you’d never ask!”
The barmaid sighed deeply
As she shined up a glass
That old guy gets me every time
At least I know that
He’s still alive
“Here you go, old-timer,” I say
Pushing the Irish whiskey his way
“Will ye have one yourself?”
And toast Paddy’s Day.
I shake my head
He could drink me under the tables
And chairs
“In that case I’ll just have a pee and a wag.”
“There’ll be no dirty talk
In this bar,” I say.
“Even if it is St Patrick’s Day.”
“No harm intended,
But a oul man can dream
Especially when his eyes behold
A lovely Irish colleen…
Oh, I know, I know you’re only half…
I’ll have that now.
You grand wee lass”
Donna opened her mouth to protest but
Instead, she refilled his dwindling glass.
“What did you say your name was again?”
“Donna,” I said with a cheeky grin.
“Pass no remarks on an oul emigrant
I’m glad to be with you
In the night that in it
Go on…give us that half Irish smile?
And fill up me glass. I’m away for a… pee..
And when it gets back I’ll have.
The other half of the half
On This Patrick’s day
You offered to me.
Gemma Hill
.
Gemma Hill Writeyou Writeme 