Devalued Green

Devalued green

Blue and yellow made love,
green was colour,
green was eyes.

You were pasture
greeting dawn with night tears.
Somewhere for sheep to graze,
for tumbles of careless lovers,
for last wicket stands
and the honour of the village,
for knotted streamers
of children and maypole.

You had an affair with feelings;
townsfolk jealously sentenced you “envy”
at a rigged identity parade.

On parole, in middle age,
you again heard the whisper of peace,
but, too old for romping lovers,
you waved flags for whales and seals.

When you entered politics
I began looking for other colours
in the grass.
You have emerald eyes.