T’would be a rare ting,
Nigerians manning an
Irish lighthouse caught
in a bank of Sneachta!

Sure isn’t the top of
Mont Blanc covered
permanently with a
Chapeau de Neige!

Will you be telling dis,
what’s so odd about
the title of my poem,
describing Guinness?

Or perhaps you were
too tick to notice the
metaphor of the drift
on top of the pint glass.