*secrets Of Grass Poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
*secrets Of Grass
Lush green grass moves with the wind
more hush than the lolling waves
on a quiet sea.
But when drought and the season
dries the high grass yellow
it gives it a voice: a whisper.
As a child
I sprawled on a hill
with the scratchy spikes
of tall fescue
leaning near me,
lapping my face
like cat tongues.
I wanted to decipher
that raspy murmur:
was it a prayer, a poem
or a proverb?
I cannot tell you.
All I know is
I cupped my hands
behind my ears,
to listen, just to listen.
Dear Lillian, You seem to be heeded by the gusty wind flowing through the cradels of grass. The subconsciousness emerged by the mellefilous natural voices is apparent through the imagery you have drawn. It has infact ensued the olden memories of my own childhood when I used to wander in similar contoures and that became the basis of my poetry and still remains the same. Best Regards Naseer
well this is a beautful write indeed! ! ! .. great one for the tired mind.. i mean after tired days work what is better than this.. beautiful! ! ! 10++ with love shan
The child as philosopher. Your beautiful poem has a touch of Walt Whitman about it. Love, Allie x x x x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 4:56:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
beautiful and haunting... some of the best memories I have are from childhood communing with nature...