my leprechaun

he doesn't have horns,

or roam around,
neither does he cause mischief,
gold he stores,
at no rainbows end,
and work he does,
not a cobblers chores,
but as one with greater odds,
 no small man is he
neither old or a young gun,
 hes a score
plus ten,
but many men
around this age
seem like boys
or some toys
hes built to fit
he smiles , he has allies,
he has style,
only in his eyes,
all man he is
this im sure,
for i have seen this
 for sure( i smile),
hes more than just another
bore,
hes more like a tour
no dull moments
to the extent
sometimes i wish
 he had some horns
for some bella's
 make me consider war
his fellas love him
the bella's adore him
even i  want some more,
he up and swift
as he sweeps me off  my feet ,
i deem him fit,
 to wear the crown ,
but like a clown
he owns no frown
now im on my own
wondering how
 to bag this clown
i speak to him
with my gentle frown
tell him tales
about my million sails
i see him ail
yet he wont stop
he tops my smile
time and time
hes more a man than
most  i know
he saves lives & yet pays the rent
he wont relent to help a friend
his only crime
is the love of life
we both embrace
i toss and turn
i watch his gaze
as i roll on
i fear the morn
that he may be gone
i stretch and yawn...
as the dawn comes
i open an eye and
here he is smiling eye to eye
aye , aye,
the fairy tale at last
lets have some ale
victory at last.