Jun 28, 2001 15:32
By: Lycorne Shropshire
I bend down,
Gently... snapping
The stem between my fingers...
Again and again,
Until a small boquet..
Of pink and white
Lays against pale skin.
It wasn't so long ago
When my hands were tiny...
Like the flower petals...
I would pick them then,
And delicately make,
Crowns of clover blossoms.
Too large for my small head,
They hung as trophies
Around my neck.
And I and my bird,
The one no one else could see...
Would wander the forests,
Searching for you...
My love.
I was no princess,
I carried a sword,
In the form of a long stick,
And searched...
For the one I lost,
All those years ago.
I checked every tree and cave,
And asked the birds in the trees...
But none had seen...
Where you had gone,
And they told me,
You had never passed that way before.
But I always knew,
You were just on the other side of the next tree.
And if I didn't find you today,
I still had tommorrow to look.
But all those days,
I spent searching for the one
To wear my clover crowns,
Never found you.
And now,
I sit quietly making once again,
Clover crowns
For you and I to wear.
My head holds the crown these days,
But I'm still no princess,
My steel sword hangs inside on the wall,
And my bird has flown away,
The forests I searched,
Are now only groves of ten or so trees,
But I still make
Clover crowns
For you and I to wear one day.
A tear falls from closed eyes,
Breaking a petal off,
My clover crown
As I remember the days spent in
Clover Dreams
Searching the forests for the one I loved.
art,
art: writing