Suppose the world ran out of grass...
I've heard it said that once it did:
the end result was the giraffe.
How could the world run out of grass?
A quarter of the world's land mass
is covered with the stuff.
Which grass? All grasses?
Every grass or some?
Cocksfoot and Yorkshire fog?
Perennial rye and rough-stalked meadow?
Bamboos and cereals? Wild marsh
land plants and water chestnuts?
Most grasses thrive on being grazed.
Sheathed at base and grazed above.
We might run out of one or two...
but all of them?
How could that be? No sedge, no grain,
no beer or whiskey, paper, pasture, thatch?
The very starting point of human life, quite gone?
Creator of our top soil to be seen no more?
Gone, the grass that cuts the mustard
like no other plant. Gone,
the grasslands either side of desert bands
that gird the earth. Gone
that fourth of all our lands:
the prairies, pampas, steppes, savannas...
I've heard it said - but is it possible?
Shift of all the desert sands
from desert lands
the wind and heat
shrink of plain
the dead is buried
where it droops. In Africa
the sands are taking over.
As for grass, its days are like man,
it flourishes, a flower -
but a perennial.
Less easy than I thought it would be, Poets United's Thursday prompt was the one word "Grass".
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
This post has in a sense been handed to me by two or three responses to my post On not getting it. In the course of discussing how a reade...