Small green shaded four-leaf clover tattoo on the inner wrist, with a thin maroon cord bracelet, against a black background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Four-leaf clover on the inner wrist

Botanical · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A small four-leaf clover with a short stem is tattooed on the inner wrist. The leaves are filled with smooth green shading, lighter toward the centre, with no hard black outline. The clover sits centred on the pale skin against a plain black background, with a thin maroon cord around the wrist above it.

Botanical Forearm Clover Four-leaf clover Leaf Stem

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, and mind the bucket, the gutter up top has been weeping since Michaelmas. You want the story of the clover? Then hush, for the old light is listening, and it doesn't care for chatter.

Keep reading

Thirty-one years ago, when the rock at Scarrow Head still had a name nobody on the mainland bothered to say, a keeper called Tobias Wren climbed the iron stair with a cold pie and a pocket full of spent matches. He found a clover growing from a crack in the gallery rail, four leaves, each one green as the water under the reef on a calm day. He picked it, because he was a practical man, and because his wife had written that she had gone six months without a single good thing to say about the weather.

He pressed it between the pages of the logbook, under the entry for a fishing smack that had gone past without answering the lamp. Each night after that he turned the page and the clover lay there, a little flatter, a little less green, and the ships came in regardless. Nobody thanked the clover. Nobody thanked the lamp either, which the old man said was the proper arrangement. Then the Maud Harrow went onto the Teeth in January, and the crew came ashore on the one rope that held. Tobias sat up with the lamp and read the logbook by its glow, and found the clover had come loose and fallen into the margin, where a drop of sea water had got to it. The green had bled out into the paper, leaving a faint shape like a hand held up. Nobody on the boat drowned. I'll let you decide whether that was the clover or the light, but I know which one the wife kept.