Clover

Your leaves are as clover,
That mix within the grass.
I catch the beauty of you,
When 'ere I pass.

Flowers pushing up to view,
Where forming nectar drips.
Bees hunt you all the while,
They strive to take sweet sips.

There's honey in your hive,
Carefullly tucked where Elfins come,
To wile away the hours,
And playfully plead for some.

Around your clustered petals,
Three and sometimes four.
Where well-wishers wish aloud,
Could you ask for more?

And to think that you are singled,
All in the game of fun.
To be that special person,
And being the lucky one.


E.P. 1908 - 1989