Poem By Grant Howard Bunce

Oh Blade of grass I salute thee! And dedicate these words of praise to you.
Often you are cut down in your prime and trampled under shoe.

Who hasn't enjoyed the meadows? or sitting on you under the trees? Or the smell
or fresh mown hay drifting on the summer breeze.

Generations of children have played with you taking comfort from your smell, while chewing you and blowing you, condemning you to your silent hell.

Dogs are so destructive and no friend to you, sometimes you receive a hot sprinkle, sometimes a hot poo! Then when you think you suffered enough and there's nothing more they'll do, they turn around and scratch the ground, to cover their stinky poo.

You grow so very tall and have many a different family member, iced up in winter, sparkling silver in January and December, or boiling in flaming June your so hardy though brown & pale, you withstand the thunderstorms and lightning strikes, floods and Icey hale.

How you survive and come back to life year after year is utterly amazing! I take my hat off
You blade of grass, sorry I can't stop the cattle grazing

If you could tell the tales of lovers who you see embrace, and hide themselves in your long arms or so they think, right before your face!
For decades you've been there un-noticed and centuries do pass, but here today we want to say we thank you Mr Grass!

GH Bunce.

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