|
The
meadow grass is tall now.
Let's race through it,
turning somersaults as we go,
hand in hand, pace by pace,
our wee feet tread the green of spring.
Forget the thorns or prickly leaves.
Let's hide and seek
in its leafy cover;
buttercups around us,
palm trees above, tall and straight,
sweet jasmines among the wattle .
We pluck wild lilies and daisies,
hunt butterflies and watch
perky grasshoppers
hop,
enticed
by fresh dews' gleam.
The
meadow grass is tall now.
Over the lea our fair feet skim.
We watch frisky squirrels hide their nuts
or catch the tails of dragon-flies.
Will that rabbit hide from eagles'
keen eyes, to survive another day ?
Our childish minds are protective
of the weak !
The meadow grass
is tall now .
Where are the boy and girl
who once roamed this paradise,
innocent and care free?
The wavy tall grass does not reply.
It too, has turned yellow, crunchy and dried.
|
