Clover Green

I remarked in thought

The clovers colour brought

And that they grew from barren soil 

In warmth and wind and growing toil

A dressing toe 

On tree forms ending 

The clover swayed 

in its grounded blending 

An audience in green applause 

At leaves that dance and twist and pause 

When falling far from fingered branches

And fly and float past clover glances 

This my sight from hollowed home

While stretching wings that have just grown

I take my flight and call my leave

To all below, to all I see 

But as clovers green shrinks in my distance 

From my place of growing instance 

I take a flying bow and one final look

And know in pages of my book

The story of the clovers green 

Flys with me to the unknown

The unseen 

mF

(C) MarkFlood2014