Four Leafed Clover

Amongst the clover

I find a four leafed one

which brings the luck

of the Irish upon me

 

The sweet scent of freshly cut grass

lingers round the land

the taste as sweet as

mint within my tea

 

The dew upon the patch

glances back visions of me

peering into the embrace

of the four leafed clover patch

 

That soon is found amidst my satchel

of potpourri

bringing both hopefulness

and a sweet, clever scent

to its beholden

my dear friend

I give to thee

 

Some good luck

for yourself

although it did scream

upon picking and cutting

he means no harm

but will disarm

even the cleverest of foe

with his magical undertakings

 

Passed down through the ages

from the sages

planted in serenity

you may now be

in this gift from me to you.

 

 

Reviews

[Arthur Henn]

I like the second stanza best. Sid another great poem. Thank you for sharing.

The sweet scent of freshly cut grass
lingers round the land
the taste as sweet as
mint within my tea
_____________________________________________

Amongst the Lepricons of Irish dreams
the scent of mint
brings me out of dreams.

The sweet smell of Irish rain
brings out the luck
shining bright, upon
colorful rainbows.

Rainbows of love
for lepricon love
to capture your soul
a heart of love
in fields of four leaf clovers.

Art

[Rod Zinkel]

I agree with Arthur on the favorite stanza, I think because in a verse filled with the senses, I like the synesthesia of it, the scent of grass becoming the taste of mint. In stanza four, did you mean clever scent or clover scent, (as either one works)?

[Emily B]

ooooh . . . what a vivid way to use the five senses. The screaming of the picking. Reminds me in some ways of a modern Robert Burns. I love this.

[The Tao of Bri]

a stream of senses and glorious joy! LOVED IT!

[robin]

Mis direction like an Irish magician or as some would call it an Irishman, 'tis no matter, and anyway a far out trip in a fine patch o' the blarney. The last line really grabbed me Theloniously, by flipping me and you and breaking the "y" rhyme. Fun paradox hidden in an ordinary Irish theme. Especially the pleasure in cutting it and the mystical foreboding part. Like potpourri for a blood ritual. Then snap! back to serenity: very Irish Leprechaun. Sorceress of tea and potpourri...

[Christopher 'Windstorm'..]

tis a magnificent poem m'lady. like a sunset with a loved on cuddeld up watching the sun set. it is totally beautiful and rings so true. because a lucky four leaf clover is luckier still if you don't pick it but banishes those we don't speak of and allows great luck. well done!

[J. James Reider]

I love the form... especially the unequal stanzas... keeps this poem far from being dull or predictable... your imagery was sufficient enough to place me right next to you in that clover patch! such a fantastic piece!