Don't know why, and will be conducting research into who St. Brigid is in the morning. I thought I was reasonably educated, but I don't have a clue.
With all due respect, I present the only poetry I can remember at the moment (I've been into the wine for about five hours now):
Up a long ladder,
Down a short rope,
Here's to King Billy,
And piss on the pope.
I'm off to bed, and will perhaps post a more appropriate poem tomorrow. Though, from me, given the wine and the hour, a toast is pretty damn good.
ETA: St. Brigid was a nun in Ireland, possibly even associated with St. Patrick. Strict Catholics out there might find my little toast offensive, but I think it's funny, since I chose it completely randomly. I'm leaving it up.