Best Green As Grass Poems
Nature is beautiful
Nature is wonderful
Wonderful to watch
Wonderful to see
See the mountains
See the trees
Trees with colours
Trees with flowers
Flowers in bloom
Flowers of fragrance
Fragrance so divine
Fragrance of smell
Smell the flowers
Smell the roses
Roses of red
Roses of yellow
Yellow as sun
Yellow as skies
Skies with purple
Skies with colours
Colours of nature
Colours of green
Green as grass
Green as leaves
Leaves turned orange
Leaves turned brown
Brown as wood
Brown as earth
Earth so rich
Earth with growth
Growth of nature
Growth of life
Life of Beauty
Life to hold
Hold in thought
Hold in memories
Memories you'll love
Memories you'll keep
Keep in heart
Keep yours forever
Forever and forever
Forever to enjoy
Enjoy the nature
Enjoy the beauty
Beauty of nature
Beauty so lovely
Lovely...
Nature...
As blind as a bat,
as brave as a lion,
and stupid as a goat.
As busy as a bee,
as fat as a pig,
and happy as a king.
As strong as a lion,
as heavy as a load,
and rude as fool.
As black as coal,
as cold as ice,
and white as snow.
As hot as fire,
as green as grass,
and sweetly as juice.
All in all,
makes one thing,
common in life.
Petite, dainty,
charming and sweet.
Hair the shade,
of Autumns golden wheat.
Her favorite color,
"Green" is what she'd say.
"Green as grass"
on a summers day.
Maybe a hairdresser,
she loves cutting bangs and curls.
Two other siblings how lucky,
both girls.
"But oh, mommy,
can't you see"
"How much more beautiful, they are,
because of me"
Mommy says,
"What am I to do"
"No matter what,
I still love you"
Sharpening the cells in cerebrum and cerebellum
Through meditation, arts, knowledge and strategy
With emotion, motion of sad and happy persons
From the history up to date and the moving pages
Writers write, artists art in front of the open universe,
The mysterious nature focuses the light of unknown
In the power of truth beauty in place and time both
Creation, destruction, origin of things and beings
With lots of evidence, imageries similes, legends,
Live examples, pictures, proverbs, experiments
The outputs are literature, history, logics, philosophy,
Geography, various sections of science, knowledge,
Once there was direct reflection of these branches
With the rising spirit in creativity, sensitivity, morality
Like fragrant in rhythmic life spread and surpassed
All that happiness sparkled in all as green as grass
The past disputes, misdeeds sunk in the Dead Sea
Spirituality, celestiality pervaded all hearts to please,
Now wrapped colorfully they are in libraries, shops,
In readers’ showcase, box, broken and left drawers,
Though they are available in educational institutions
Like school, college, departmental board, university
They are read irregularly that only in some occasions
And the readers are seen fruitless, reluctant in study,
In technological, multimedia flourish, worldly progress
Time is passed in over all progress making, fun, mock
Audio, video, radio, internet, face book, twitter, email,
Park, party, cyber, studio, footpath, automobile, mobile,
Drama, movie, gathering, indoor-outdoor multi events,
At lame excuse, cheap emotion Romeo-Juliet flirtation,
Writers, write on– artists, art on– in full swing, spirits
Let the curses of white sheets be dispelled from you
The curses of every written sheet will never grasp you
But you will see no one is out of the curses and tricks.
Enchanted by skylarks I surrender my time.
Day's sun unabated riveted me to broiling heat,
I stew in my skin. Every toxic thought
Pollutes my surface as is intended,
But corrodes and cankers their patron's heart.
The statue has a skin change too: skylark rest,
Merely superficial - smiles surfacing for air,
For culture goes deeper than color here.
Under the statue like a sheltering tree
I stand awed at my eroding liberty.
I count the red pennies, and watch the moods
Of racuos skylarks and people interchanging.
Standing diminished of labor's properties
And even the honesty of facade history,
I am watching skylarks sky diving for bread.
They all have long black wings
And they cry awfully; some say no one sings
Again, that rap is a longing to tell our own story.
I am listening neither rhythm nor art here
But a purposeful cry dense with bitterness.
The pennies I am counting fall, and do not roll.
Birds towering above me, on a sun scarred wall
Survey us ruefully as apart we fall:
Our ideas and paradigms like rubble and litter
The skylarks beyond our vision's fetter
Cry against the unexposed anger, the facade
That marked us polite as we crumble
Like old iron raw in salt mist and nitride air.
Under the statue of liberty the crowd mingles thoughts
In silence. The statue's massive, iron breast
Stilled, as the shrieking skylarks dive and digest
Crumbs of cold, callous film of charity
That goes easily to animals and birds, forsaking
The validity of man. Birds foment in the sky,
Skylarks still crying as the boats go pass.
A shadow with a fleeting cloud shifts and I see
The statue turns green, livid green, green as grass.
My little girl with hair of gold
And eyes as green as grass
My little boy with hair of sand
Hazel eyes full of laughs
Her tempers hot and emotions strong
With an inner rage of fire
His tempers placid, emotions calm
With dreams his main desire
She's quick to anger, slow to hurt
But still a little girl
He's slow to anger, quickly hurt
A boy in a sensitive world
I love them yes they are my heart
The reason for why I live
Two little angles who can be devil's
Though for them my life I'd give
They're no longer here so I prey they see
Their mother will never let go
She loves her children where ever they are
She hopes that this they know
I stand under the statue of liberty
Counting the red pennies
I stand diminished of all my properties
Even my history.
I am watching skylarks sky diving for bread
They all have long black wings
And they cry awfully, some say no one sings
Again. It's rap instead.
But what I heard had neither rhythm or art
And made my pennies fall.
Towering above me, on a cold, dak wall
Things just falling apart.
I stand under the statue of liberty
Its massive, iron breast
Stilled, as the shrieking skylarks dive and digest
Crumbs of cold charity.
The birds still crying as the boats go pass
The statue turns green, livid green, green as grass.
Scorching sun reflect my face on thy water
Show what's in my lonely soul
Let the chapter of my sad moments unfold
Show the people that I am not bold
I was once green as grass but the poison has made me brown
Just like how ever old person was once young
My demon has age with me in this rundown town
Leaving nothing for me to claim but these memories that's fun
Not everyone wishes for you to stay around
Their are waiting for this curse to be undone
Thinking you are the problem when in yourselves it can be found
All these years of pain I could say had made me numb
Emotions aren't meant to be worn on your sleeve
Always let them believe what they want to believe
Strive for result not what are televised
Believe in yourself and you'll see changes
I'm giving you this present.
It's a little garden elf.
I feel he's kinda special,
cause I created him myself!
Please put him in your garden,
but there's something you should know.
He isn't gonna do no work!
He'll just stand and watch things grow!
He has a tiny silver shovel.
His suit is green as grass.
I think he'll give your garden,
a little touch of class.
He'll create a cheerful presence,
with his rosy cheeks and chin.
He'll catch the eye of the passer-by
with his playful, impish grin!
He's a sturdy little fellow.
Just you wait and see
and every time you look at him,
I hope you'll think of me!
Ralph Taylor
The Sweetest Touches of Verse
Garages Bullies
I worked in a Ford garage in Rochdale. There were some real bar stewards there. Two in particular bullied me. They stuck together and picked on me, name calling, pushing me about, messing with my head, going through my stuff in my bag. I was one, they were two. I couldn’t do anything but take it. They never broke me.
Slowly other bar stewards who worked there started to bully me. I was new to the garage and job, they shouted and swore at me when I did something wrong. No one else was bullied, just me. I was eighteen years old and green as grass. Shame I never had my current life skills back then. I’d talk sense to them or use my fists on them.
I ask myself why it happened. Me, in that hell hole garage in 1989? It was the third and final garage I worked in and the worst. Working conditions were fine but two fellow apprentices were real jerks. A third one was marginal, I could handle him. Aggression was everywhere. Everything was off the rails. Including me.
Many times I was trusted with brand new Ford cars, taking them to customers or picking up parts or running an errand. This ended as it only could. I and one of the bullies were street racing in Ashton, he braked and I did, too late! I ran into the back of him and wrote a Ford Orion off. The garage fired me. I was saved from that hell!
I look into your eyes and I see green
Green as the grass growing underfoot
Lips the colour of ripe cherries
Or an azalea bush as its flowers float
in the pond of life which is so blue
Maybe a tinge of grey at its edge
Skin the soft white of a baby
Before the blush of heat warms the soul
Hair like molten gold
as a field of corn swaying to and fro
Smile of an angel with dimples showing
As darker circles on the cheek aglow
This is how my elders described me
When I was just a small child
Nowadays
the eyes are still green as grass
Lips maybe tinged with blue
Skin not as pure as a babies
Yet the smile is still there, dimples too.
Colours of living change as one grows
The psychedelic hues that circle the brain
when times of worry and strain are about
Yet we strive for the rose pink of perfection
Like a bed of flowers, one dies and another springs forth
That’s called living and life in colour
Strong Bonds
Muddy river,
crystal clear,
and sometimes green as grass.
Grains of sand, hot on the pan,
Gifts of pine?, smell all you can…!
Cowboys, Indians, artists
and rodeo, powwows.
Towns gone,
now ghostly kept…
Mines, claim jumpers,
stagecoaches and poker players,
School teachers,
and the right to vote?
Mountain men…
Too many people,
and broken treaties.
Ever paving the way
toward the future…
of a highway.
Scoundrels and sheriffs,
preachers and train trackers,
carpetbaggers, and mayors…
purveyors of law, yet without order.
History remembers…,
Don’t let them forget.
Pioneers, robbers, and slaves,
built OUR country…
Heroes of a past,
we need more today,
than ever before.
Stand up men that put their life on the line.
Western hearts, that carried through time.
Horse and saddle, bronc and buster,
ride again into the sun!
“In God We Trust”
dandelion weed
non fragrant scaly weed spreads
near the multiply
over takes grasses
puff white seedy ball of seeds
blown within the wind
near the multiples
green as grass but not as full
dandelion weed
5/12/19
I dated a girl whose hair was blacker than night,
and eyes green as grass...what a knock out!
And spending nights together,
we counted small and big stars...
and began to dream of another
world owned by the two of us.
When we touched and kissed,
passion wasn't there...was it my fault or hers?
I'm the kind of guy who loves intensely,
expecting to be loved the same...
she was the kind of girl who fantasized
giving less, not because she was afraid;
this question remains, " Who was to blame?
Would love have survived without sincerity? "
And this relationship went on for years,
the gap got wider, causing distance...
she used to call me eight times a day,
making me feel special like no other gal would,
but that warm feeling inside started to get cold;
no text messages, no phone calls...a reason for tears!
It couldn't have ended without an explanation, or excuse!
I went to her place one winter evening to say goodbye.
There she was laying in bed with another girl with purple hair;
she jumped off and wanted to apologize for her stupidity,
" That's the nastiest secret you have kept from me! "
I said with fury and this was the right time to end the lies.
She realized that secrets will surface even on the clearest water...
when one the least expects it, but who was going to pay the prize?