This is the grass your feet are planted on. You paint it orange or you sing it green, But you have never found A way to make the grass mean what you mean.
A cloud can be whatever you intend: Ostrich or leaning tower or staring eye. But you have never found A cloud sufficient to express the sky.
Get out there with your splendid expertise; Raymond who cuts the meadow does not less. Inhuman nature says: Inhuman patience is the true success.
Human impatience trips you as you run; Stand still and you must lie. It is the grass that cuts the mower down; It is the cloud that swallows up the sky.
Welcome to The grey clover. My name is Mayowa. I'm a physiotherapy student. I am also a lover of Literature, Arts, Science and technology. I have several interests which includes writing poetry, photography, fashion designing and there are still much more things I hope to learn. Thanks for stopping by!
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