Clover fields

I came back after three long years, 
And things have changed so greatly 
I can’t make out because of tears 
The things I left behind so worthy.

Don’t show me fields of clover, 
Don’t bring back scenes I crave; 
Don’t dig up what’s over forever — 
I’ll take them to the grave.

She loved me so when I left her
To answer the bagpipes’ call;
Now nothing’s left of that last summer 
Except memories that bring back all.

She made a vow to wait awhile, 
A vow close to my heart,
Yet she broke both with a smile, 
And my life is torn apart.

When I’m not crying I sometimes laugh 
To think how she lessened the pain: 
Love saw me through smooth and rough, 
But I won’t feel the same again.