Four leaf clovers

Strangely my sister has her birthday on Saint Patrick's day. I say strangely for this is a memory:

There were three young cjildren, The eldest, her sister and a cousin, the same age as the youngest. I remember this as if I were sitting at the bottom of the garden in Rosemary road. The children were dreamers and known across the gardens of there imaginations as explorers. Togeteher the three were a power , a force of spirits combined. They used their powers to fight there way through wars and monsters in the swamps. Of course the swamp was the pool and the monster the creepy crawly. None the less they wore capes (there swimming towels) and flew to the bee tree and back. Once they travelled the lands of war they reached their kingdom of love. They ate watermelon and called it there power juice, and the memory lies here.

I remember sitting at the bottom of the garden under the creepy tree. We sat there for hours on the grass. picking up every clover. Screaming 'I found one I found one" we hoped and prayed to find one, for with this clover we could be free.

So my sister the moral of the story is, we do not need that clover to be free, for we are free, with the love in our hearts and the imagination of our dreams. So from me to you: take this clover and do what suits your soul best.

I miss you, I love you, may the clover of all clovers, fly you through the valley of your dreams, on a magical carpet, and mend you in its soul.