What if grass is greener on the other side,
Because it’s always raining there,
Where the ones who never fail to give,
Hardly have enough to spare,
Where the people with the broadest smiles,
Have pillows filled with tears,
And the bravest ones you’ve ever known,
Are crippled by their fears,
It’s filled with lonely people,
But they’re never seen alone,
Where those that lack real shelter,
Make you feel the most at home,
Maybe their grass looks greener,
Because they’ve painted on its hue,
Just remember from the other side,
Your grass looks greener too.
~e.h.

Erin Hanson is a master at rhyming.

I don't worry about the name of the grass,
Its grassiness is what I came searching for

Poetic T Nov 4

Sometimes the grass isn't
     Always greener
Maybe the lawn your on
       Just needs a little more
                          Attention

Did you ever think when a season
       Changes,
what grows beneath...
Not realizing that your feet
        Were  free before.

Big white chunks of fluffy ice
flying down in a serendipitous sequence
falling against the yellow steady splash
of frothing evening light,full of mirth
in some moments glowing like embers
against slanting rays,again white
on extended meadow grass plane
transforming it a white spread sheet
of cool silence, with lessening patches of green.

Crimson leaves were being
Shy, soon would die falling
For you.

I was so sure
You were somewhere between
Yellowish grass, gloomy clouds
Old traffic lights, Rusty road signs

The wind smelled
The scent of autumn,
Brought you from the sky
Upstairs, waving
And me, smiling

Please,
just a coffee.
An Irish Coffee!
So that I can remember
of my land.
So that I can remember
of my dreams.
So that I can remember
of the smell of grass.
So that I can remember
of the taste of rain.

Please,
just a coffee.
An Irish Coffee!
So that I remember everything.

Alice Wilde Oct 1

Sitting down I gaze at smoothed rocks,
Waving seas grass-
The breeze touches my cheek.
But I am not by the water,
And theses rocks and grass aren't of the sea.

They were imported from some plant
Looking to make money off the idea.
Stones nestling metal slats,
Sea grass swaying in the city breeze.

I have been staring at them-
contemplating my own existence.
It's like that of the rocks and grass that line Harke Laboratory
I'm out of place.

Solaces Sep 25

Endless white..  As far as the eye could see.  We had to travel far and wide in search of food.  My bones were as cold as the wind..  But we had to go on.. We were the strongest in the tribe and chosen for its survival..  The snow begin to fall again..  Could not see 3 ft in front of us.. This would make it more difficult to follow tracks and such.  But forward we went, together for the hunt!  

It was getting colder.. The winds were picking up again.  Then all of a sudden a warm gust of air hit us all..  For a moment we were all warm inside and out..  We continued to feel these gust of warm winds from time to time.. It got to the point where the winds stayed warm.. So warm in fact we started to remove pelts off of our backs..

We traversed over a hill and saw the most amazing thing I have ever seen.. Green... so much green! The grass was beautiful here!  And at the center stood a being, a person waring strange glowing armor! He was floating above the grass sleeping..  He was the source of all the warm air we felt..  It was as if he was emitting life itself..  The grass felt so beautiful to the touch.. The green was making love to our eyes..  My body felt as warm as ever.. All my pain was gone..  My cracked cold skin was warm and full of color..

We all fell into a slumber in the grass..  I had beautiful dreams of green.. When we all awoke the strange armored being was gone..  Just being in his presence kept us warm for weeks.. It was as if his power somehow soaked into us.. All of our wounds were healed.. We came back to the tribe with plenty of food and one hell of a story!         S.DIVERS

Just resting on a planet of snow
Rachel Hickey Sep 20

Blonde hair, shoulder length
A morning in June, one of thirty
I run my fingers through the tall grass
Picking memories like strawberries

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