The Grass Poem by Deb Fowler
The Grass
I am my Mother, as I weep
when reading of death and life,
knowing forever exists only in
the mind.
I am my Father, as I start each
day, rise to the challenges,
assuming great things will happen
as chance favors the prepared mind.
I am myself, my rose colored
glasses slip, I see the grass has
browned on the other side of
the fence.
Excellent piece. 'I see the grass has browned on the other side of the fence.' Very descriptive prose, well done. Regards Craig.
Very touching to read my lovely....expressed with love and understanding...beautiful tender expressed lines give this piece a loving feel....well penned 10+
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 4:06:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Deb, The sad... It is very beautifully made...10... Tsita