Gregory Stanford Poet Rhyme

Green Grass Of Home

Here’s my lovely grass of home
What defines it is that never
It obtains pale yellow tone
Remains emerald green forever
Over there across the field
There’s a hill you used to know
Walked upon its lanes until
You felt tired enough to go
Backwards to the sweetest home
With its garden paradise
Where the smoothly cut green lawn
Glints with water from the skies
You come down for tea and biscuits 
We talk rubbish ‘bout the weather
Though one thing we both implicit
That it can’t get any better.

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