The Grass Snake. Poem by PAUL COLVIN

What lies beneath the whispering grass?
We never see them sliding past
In fields and gardens, day or night
They're always there but out of sight.
Slithering to, slithering fro
As though they don't know where to go
From shiny head to shiny tail
Their slimy skins won't leave a trail.
Their eyes see all, up and down
From side to side and all around
Their colour is, a grassy green
And that's probably why, they're never seen.