Clover Asks a Question
No flower in the meadow is exactly alike
hundreds of them, each unique
plethora of colors, shades, fragrances and hues
each blossom complete onto herself
violet grins at clover, reading his bliss
clover feels bold under her appreciation
asks her why flora is so many colors
violet blushes and her purple hue deepens
flowers feel deeply, mushroom offers
their empathy and compassion abounds
each thought brings a new shade to their blossoms
clover is surprised
is this true for marigolds, lilies, tulips, and bleeding heart?
mushroom peers over tall grass to survey the meadow
all signs indicate it must be
clover takes a deep sigh, satisfied
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