Tat

Twirling colors spin
inceset words of
denial.
I am me,
no matter what
is thought by you.
Pots of gold
found at the end
of a bombing heritage.
Emerald green
four leaf clovers
no longer offer
the good luck of a nation
torn betweena common belief.
Crackling fire red,
cautious yellow,
tranquil blue
twirl to the
jaded petals
offaded beliefs.
Initialed to bewith me always,
forms far away,but close to touch.
Eternal brand of
the past stays
to keep my feet
on the ground.

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By Wendy Simms