A look at war and chaos and dreams of a new world tomorrow

Sweet Fields of Clover
By Jayne Bullock


It is a time of famine
in this world of ours.
Hunger creeps throughout
the deserts and countryside.
It knows no boundaries,
ravaging villages and cities,
slums and tenements.
Bodies, thin and gaunt,
are filled with sunken eyes –
in skeletal frames, all filled
with starving and sickness.
I close my eyes.

I dream sorrow and famine have
vanished in this world of plenty.
I envision sunshine -
smiling abundantly on fields,
providing fruitful lands
for both man and beast;
green, sweet-smelling fields
- blossoming, reaching maturity.
I walk with my friends, hand in hand
through bountiful fields.
Sweet fields of clover.

It is a time of turmoil
in this world of ours.
War rages on the horizon - Kingdoms
and countries in discord.
North against south, east against
west, brother against brother.
Vast scarred lands
filled with bloodshed and death;
the wanton ugliness of war.
I close my eyes.

I dream of a day without despair and
the ugliness of war.
I envision blue skies - billowing
clouds and sunshine;
fields full of purple f1owererettes,
bobbing in the warm breeze.
Anger is replaced
with a world of peace and beauty.
I walk with my friends hand in hand
through sweet green fields.
Sweet fields of clover.