'Twas fifteen hundred years ago
In Britain to a Gaelic wealthy pair,
Maewyn "warlike" Succat, baptized Patrick
A baby boy was born, so fair.
But alas, at sixteen, only just a lad
Irish pirates kidnapped him away,
Raided his family of their hopes
By taking Pat to Ireland's bay.
For six long years he laboured there
A slave upon the hills of sheep,
All alone, he knelt down on his knee
In his heart he heard God speak.
With courage he sailed to Europe's shores
To learn the more about his Lord,
And thus prepared, returned to the Isle
To share God's love with every mile.
He'd bend to pick a three leaf clover
To tell of the God he knew,
Father Son and Holy Spirit
As he sought to teach all that was true.
Upon his passing
Ireland was greatly blessed
For he left behind a great heritage,
Of churches, schools and colleges
Thus it is said..by his beating drum
Of snakes, Ole Ireland was rid!!
Soft Whispers from
Derry's Heart Poems
© 2004 used with permission
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