[Grovenet] Honoring the Irish

[Ron D'Eau Claire]

Here's a poem and a toast that honors the Irish in all of us (at least I
could identify with them both!).

Why Paddy's Not At Work Today

Dear Boss, I write this note to you to tell you of my plight
And at the time of writing, I am not a pretty sight;
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly gray
And I write this note to say why Paddy's not at work today. 

While working on the fourteenth floor some bricks I had to clear;
To throw them down from such a height was not a good idea.
The foreman wasn't very pleased, he being an awful sod
He said I'd have to cart them down the ladders in me hod. 

Now, clearing all those bricks by hand it was so very slow,
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below.
But in my haste to do the job I was too blind to see
That a barrelful of building bricks was heavier than me. 

So when I untied the rope the barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead.
I shot up like a rocket till to my dismay I found
That halfway up I met the bloody barrel coming down. 

Well, the barrel broke my shoulder as to the ground it sped,
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with my head.
I clung on tight though numb with shock from this almighty blow
As the barrel spilled out half the bricks, fourteen floors below. 

Now when those bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more;
Still clinging tightly to the rope, I sped down to the ground,
And landed on the broken bricks that were all scattered round. 

I lay there groaning on the ground, I thought I'd passed the worst,
When the barrel hit the pulley-wheel, and then the bottom burst.
A shower of bricks rained down on me, I hadn't got a hope
And as my sight began to dim, I let go the bloody rope. 

The barrel than being heavier, it started down once more,
It landed right across me, as I lay upon the floor.
It broke three ribs and my left arm and I can only say
That I hope you'll understand why Paddy's not at work today.

----


Farewell Toast
by Mike Cross

Here's to the wine we love to drink, 
And the food we love to eat.
Here's to our wives and sweethearts, 
And may they never meet.
Here's champagne for our real friends,
And real pain for our sham friends,
And when this journey finally ends,
May all of us find peace.

Here's to the women that I've loved,
And all the one's I've kissed.
As for regrets, I've only one, 
That's all the one's I've missed.
While women's faults are many,
We men have only two,
Every single thing we say 
And every thing we do.

I wish you health, I wish you wealth,
And happiness galore.
I wish you heaven when you die,
What could I wish you more?
May your joys be as deep as the ocean,
Your troubles light as its foam,
And may you find sweet peace of mind
Wherever you may roam.

Good Night

Ron D'Eau Claire