46.      GREEN

Fields, fields forever green
What does such dominance mean?
Of rolling hills and savoury grass
Lined with candled trees.

To support the evergreen plot
We stir rain in a pot.
Its aroma is the morning mist
But in the evening it’s all the holiest.

How shaped are those leaves
And wonder how they darken at the eaves
When colour join the green race,
Who jointly with the world want peace.

So not to dull our colour
I send you this rosy flower.