Leather Apron Do You Like This Poem?

Do you like this poem? - leather apron

Pot of Gold rewrite ()

Oh red creature myths of the people
Assistant hilly forests
The pot of gold, let's see
Through fields of greed
His leather apron, guide us
Much has lost the joy we find

No time to feel the breeze
Stop the ravens, we see
"Sud Express, you must board
I must warn of a long journey, "
Bow giggle and some parts of Spill
How to hang against the cold

The railway south of the steel is cold
But the hot air of smoke Body
And solve some men dream
With the lid open, an empty right
How do we go gray tunnel
Rotate the laughter of children

Awaken the weary soul, we
Shake off the sweat from his forehead
And give his last breath on Earth
In fact, it is a wonderland
If children breathe rays of summer
In the case of pots of gold are no longer
However, corn flakes on the plate