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Read a sample ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Freda Myers Ellis was born and educated in Yorkshire, England. She married Joseph Ellis and had three children. Freda taught in schools in England and Australia after emigrating with her husband and son in 1969. Freda now resides on Queensland’s Gold Coast and has had several poems published and also broadcast. She is a member of Gold Coast Writers. A TOUCH OF THE BLARNEY A free sample! Don't
you go to Ireland unless you know about St. Pat ‘Cos they’ll never let you
in there, I
can promise you that. He’s
their special patron saint of that you can be sure, the greatest of all saints,
courageous, good and pure. You’d
best have seen the Shamrock, and
tasted Irish Mist. And
traveled to Killarney, the
Blarney Stone have kissed. You
must know about the leprechauns and
fairies centuries old, and
the wee Irish pixies said
to plant those pots of gold. But
how many of you know, though
Saint Patrick is their saint, well
the Irish won’t believe this... in
fact I think they’d faint. For
though he lived in Ireland, and
he gave them such a lot. He
was never truly Irish.... He
was really born a Scot!
A GARDEN IS HEAVENIF I DON'T HAVE TO DO IT Our
garden was a mess, weeds
flourished everywhere. The
weather had been so dry and the rain so rare. I’d
given it up as hopeless but to my surprise, two
gardening angels suddenly appeared at my side. They
worked like Trojans digging, fertilizing
and planting. I
stood watching amazed, they weren’t even panting. In
went the bulbs, the plants and the little bushes. Tenderly arranged and in
charming little clusters. Down
went the wood chip. Cheers
no more weeding. Lots
of water and TLC. That's
all they’d be needing. Gardening
is a gift and it’s so very rewarding. But
it missed out on me. Looks,
lovely, but
boring.
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