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Field of Green

 
He planted a field of shamrock clover in memory of his beloved Ireland home. 
 
He smiled at thoughts of his long-lost youth there, when through green fields he'd roam.  
 
He lived a good life and had grown old now, he knew his time was passing by. 
 
All he asked was to be buried beneath the shamrocks when it came his time to die.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This was written for In Other Words where Patricia has asked us to  
write a story or poem of 5 Lines or Less using the word shamrock:
noun; a plant having leaves divided into three leaflets, the wood sorrel,
red clover, white clover, and black medick: the national emblem of Ireland
.
Come and read more stories and share one of yours!

  

7 comments:

  1. What a sweet poem! I can just imagine the old man dreaming of his homeland and wanting to rest under the shamrocks he planted in his new home. Lovely. Thanks for sharing with In Other Words.

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    1. Thank you, Patricia. I could feel his love for the land where he grew up and the happiness it gave him when he returned to those memories.

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  2. Very nice poem. I can never think of what to write when given prompts like that. Funny thing is that I took Creative Writing classes in High School and College but for some reason I just got out of practice at it.

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    1. Thank you Ida! I tend to go with the first idea that pops into my head. Once the first line or sentence is in place the rest comes easy.

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  3. His own little piece of home! Lovely.

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Your comments are always appreciated... they make me smile! :-)