☘️☘️ The Wee Folk's Glen of Painted Stone ☘️☘️
Beneath Slieve Bloom where shadows softly lie, And twilight mists embrace the starry sky, A glen of painted stone, aglow and bright, Where leprechauns keep vigil through the night. Their cottages, like gems in twilight's hue, Reflect forgotten dreams in emerald blue. A cobbled path worn smooth by tiny tread, Where echoes linger long from feet that fled. Old Seamus, beard aflame like sunset’s fire, Mends moonlit shoes with craft and keen desire. Young Nora spins a cloak of shamrock green, With threads of dew—no fairer cloth is seen. The air hums soft with whispers of their lore, Of hidden gold and wishes dreamed before. They guard their treasures, sly and full of cheer, Yet sorrow lingers in their songs sincere. Beneath the silver moon their laughter rings, They dance and wea...