Blessed

[Brickjectivity]

some man no one knoweth died in whose legend secrets hide
no he cannot be forgot and ol' lang sine failed not
'Peace' he did say and was hanged like Jesus by crowds harangued
pots of gold he promised and humbly bowed his head
be comfit-ed old rainbow man hanging there still in limbo
he hangs there still preaching all "Listen, listen though I'm small!"
a little man green in heart oh trying to do his part

 

[Yerda]

I had to read that three times to spot the rhyming pattern. Would it be too direct to ask for help?

 

[Brickjectivity]

Sure. Its imperfectly rhymed. Each line contains a rhyming pair where the last syllable of the last word rhymes:

Died, Hide
be forgot, failed not
was hanged, haranged
promised, bowed his head
rainbow, limbo
preaching all, though I'm small
heart, part

 

[Yerda]

Sure. Its imperfectly rhymed. Each line contains a rhyming pair where the last syllable of the last word rhymes:

Died, Hide
be forgot, failed not
was hanged, haranged
promised, bowed his head
rainbow, limbo
preaching all, though I'm small
heart, part

Aye, I noticed that. I meant, what am I reading?

 

[Brickjectivity]

I was imagining where the Irish legend of the leprechauns might have come from. In the poem its as if there were a saint behind the story. The legend of the leprechaun is that he has a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and if you catch him you can make him give it to you. Often a myth has something real behind it. Such a person might wonder if his early death was for nothing and whether good deeds were for nothing. "Auld lang sine" is actually Scottish, not Irish; whereas the legend of the leprechauns is Irish. I live so far away however that to me the two groups are living in each other's back yards. Its beside the point. "Auld lang sine" is part of a boy scout song having to do with friendship. See : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auld_Lang_Syne

 

[Brickjectivity]

Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
CHORUS:
On Old long syne my Jo,
On Old long syne,
That thou canst never once reflect,
On Old long syne.

-- copied from current Wikipedia article. Poem by Robert Burns

 

[shayanjameel08]

nice wording especuially that "he hangs there still preaching all "Listen, listen though I'm small!"