The Grasses Had Been Statue Still Poem by Sylvia Lukeman

The grasses had been statue still
When the winds came
And set them swaying, swaying.

Bulrushes shuddered, shuddered
And bushes started shaking
Their fragile olive green leaves.

The surf crashed noisily
Onto shore;
Insatiable the short lived foam
Built up once moreand yet more.

Wild flowers of the brightest
Of reds and palest of blues

Patterned the shimmering
Grassy slopes
And now they were dancing and prancing.

I stood near the window
Invigourated by sights and sounds.
Strong lean trees seemed agitated.

Could they, would they
Be uprooted from the trembling ground