In Donalsonville, where the Spanish moss sways, Lived a crew who made concrete in amazingest ways. Seminole Pole, their company grand, Crafted light poles that stood strong in the land.

Now, ol’ Blaine O’Toole, their head honcho so keen, Had a bit of a brogue, and a mischievous grin. He dreamt of his poles, lit with a shamrock’s green gleam, For on St. Paddy’s Day, a grand ol’ scheme did he scheme.

He gathered the crew, with a twinkle in his eye, “This year, lads and lassies, let our poles reach the sky! Green LEDs we’ll install, bright as a leprechaun’s gold, And bathe every street in a story untold!”

The welders and mixers, they scratched at their heads, “Green light poles, Blaine? Are you sure what you said?” But Blaine, determined, wouldn’t take no for an answer, “Trust me,” he winked, “it’ll be a St. Paddy’s Day dancer!”

So they toiled through the night, with laughter and song, Fitting green lights where regular bulbs did belong. By dawn, Donalsonville was a sight to behold, A town bathed in emerald, a story to be told.

The folks stumbled out, bleary-eyed from their sleep, But a gasp filled the air, their faces agape. Green light poles they saw, a fantastical sight, “Did the leprechauns visit us all through the night?”

Blaine, with a grin, shouted out from the crowd, “Happy St. Paddy’s Day, let the merriment be loud! Seminole Pole wishes you laughter and cheer, May your day be filled with good fortune, my dears!”

So raise a glass high, to Seminole’s delight, Their green light pole prank, a truly grand sight. May your St. Patrick’s Day sparkle with glee, And your laughter be bright, just like their concrete decree!