A Song The Grass Sings Poem by Charles Granger Blanden
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A Song The Grass Sings
The violet is much too shy,
The rose too little so;
I think I'll ask the buttercup
If I may be her beau.
When winds go by, I'll nod to her
And she will nod to me,
And I will kiss her on the cheek
As gently as may be.
And when the mower cuts us down,
Together we will pass,
I smiling at the buttercup,
She smiling at the grass.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
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Poems By Charles Granger Blanden
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