Love O’ God In Clover

Oh Ireland, I am your daughter
Generations removed but not the wonder
Drawn to your lore and mystery
I’ve dreamed of you across the sea.

I am a mut, a mix of kin
Grown up in Poor Town, Oregon
My father’s chin, red beard covered,
Reminds me of a special clover

I walked along a mossy path
In Oregon’s green wilderness
My broken heart longed for another
That’s when I saw God’s love in clover

Oh Ireland, your hills are green
Your son, Patrick, helped me believe
When once I saw that sign of love
I prayed, “Oh Lord, bless Ireland”

You love me, Lord
I saw that day
A sure sign
None can take away

For there amidst green hearts of clover
A blood red heart made me to wonder

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