Grass

Alice Guerin Crist 1876 (Clare Castle) – 1941 (Toowoomba)



The world is all one smother of grass,
Waves of it rolling deep and green,
Clothing the paddocks’ gentle slope,
Laughing the brown tree-trunks between.
And some are praising the brilliant flowers,
The beauty of foliage as they pass,
But I am drinking its glory in
And thanking the Lord for grass, for grass!

The air is a-murmur with rippling sound
From jubilant creeks long fed with rain,
Singing of drought and travail past
And a bounteous earth drown young again-
An earth that is telling its thankfulness
With passionate rapture too deep for words
In acres and acres of waving grass,
Haven of promise to starving herds.

There’s a tangle of bloom in its moist green shade,
Mottled yam-flowers and gentians blue,
Small white stars that are honey sweet,
And nodding bluebells all drenched with dew.
And oh! The breath of its incense rare
As the summer breezes over it pass,
My heart is thrilling with voiceless prayer
And thanking the Giver of things for grass.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 02, 2023

50 sec read
104

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABXBXAXA XXXXACAC XDXDEAEA
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 950
Words 169
Stanzas 3
Stanza Lengths 8, 8, 8

Alice Guerin Crist

Alice Guerin Crist was an Australian poet, author and journalist. more…

All Alice Guerin Crist poems | Alice Guerin Crist Books

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