You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...
PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker
on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads
while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member
and block ads forever...while getting many more great
features. Take a look!
This air is flooded with her.
I am a boy again, and my mother
and I lie on wet grass, laughing.
She startles, turns to
marigolds at my side, saying beautiful, and I can see the red
there is in them.
When she would fall into her thoughts, we'd look for what
distracted her from us.
My mother's gone again as suddenly as ever and, seven months
after the funeral, I go dancing.
I am becoming grateful.
Breathing, thinking, marigolds.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top George Herbert Poems
Analysis and Comments on Grace
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Grace here.