I’m looking for
red clover.
It used to grow
in profusion by the
highway that ran by
my home when I
was growing up.
Like a crimson
brocade it lined
the way for travelers,
swirling gently
when cars passed by.
It makes me wonder
what else I’m looking for
and don’t know it.
What do I need to see again,
maybe only once more
in my life?
When I find again my red clover,
on the roadside, and I will,
maybe I’ll lie down,
and bathe in its perfume.
A search for self poem Sonny. I remember my grandmother explaining about 4 leaf clover, she actually showed me one and told me I was going to be one luck lady when I grew up. I am still waiting! lol It is the growing up that is the problem. Grinning at you, childish as usual Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are such a great writer, this is amazing and so wise, well done Sonny.R. Love Duncan