The world is all one smother of grass, <br />Waves of it rolling deep and green, <br />Clothing the paddocks’ gentle slope, <br />Laughing the brown tree-trunks between. <br />And some are praising the brilliant flowers, <br />The beauty of foliage as they pass, <br />But I am drinking its glory in <br />And thanking the Lord for grass, for grass! <br /> <br />The air is a-murmur with rippling sound <br />From jubilant creeks long fed with rain, <br />Singing of drought and travail past <br />And a bounteous earth drown young again- <br />An earth that is telling its thankfulness <br />With passionate rapture too deep for words <br />In acres and acres of waving grass, <br />Haven of promise to starving herds. <br /> <br />There’s a tangle of bloom in its moist green shade, <br />Mottled yam-flowers and gentians blue, <br />Small white stars that are honey sweet, <br />And nodding bluebells all drenched with dew. <br />And oh! The breath of its incense rare <br />As the summer breezes over it pass, <br />My heart is thrilling with voiceless prayer <br />And thanking the Giver of things for grass.<br /><br />Alice Guerin Crist<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grass-6/
