The Green Grass of Home
The grass of my home
is the greenest of green
greener in memory than reality,
but that doesn't minimize the yearning
to contemplate one more time,
to stretch out on one more time
the grass from my childhood,
that memorable grass of home,
the green green grass of my home.
The You Tube video features Tom Jones singing "The Green Grass of Home." This short poem is written for dVerse Poetics where Karin is having us write about 'green.'
ah...i feel the pining of home...and often the memory of things is so much sweeter than reality...but home has a special place always, for sure...
ReplyDeletemade me want to take my shoes off and walk in the grass as well...smiles.
Ah, to go back is a wonderful thing in thought. :)
ReplyDeleteGreen grass of home is grand and always can be greener at another land, but rarely is, pfft to the green grass though and the lawn mowing biz.
ReplyDeleteoh this is lovely mary and brings back so many memories as well..we used to roll down grass hills as kids...i wanna do this again...smiles
ReplyDeleteGreener in memory... love that, Mary.
ReplyDelete...and i will sing you too greensongs of greenmemories... greenmemories of the green green grass of our home... how delicate & soothing to read Mary... it brings many a memory of my younger days in rural lands... my real home of quiet nature... beautiful...smiles...
ReplyDeleteGreen grass has the stunning effect of nature's best.Your poem brings back the goodness and the memories. Nicely Mary!
ReplyDeleteHank
In my childhood - a lake, green grass and apple orchards.........so lovely, then. A beautiful poem, Mary, that took me back, too.
ReplyDeleteI remember my Dad playing this song, it brings me back to those simple days, green grass of home ~
ReplyDeleteHappy weekend ~
I know just what you mean, Mary!
ReplyDeleteNice! The song is a favorite of my dad's....been singing it since I was a wee one. Love your words, the soundtrack and the nostalgia
ReplyDeleteVery lovely, Mary and it took me back to the small town where I grew up ..the smell of freshly cut grass is heavenly ;)
ReplyDeleteA very pretty poem, Mary, that has the rhythms of a song. Works so well. k.
ReplyDeleteHow beautiful indeed. The dreams of our youth... Mine is more blue though as we spent the summers close to sea.
ReplyDeleteI guess beautiful is the word of the day here. Reminds to of the rolling greens of my youth. Yes, it would be nice. I enjoyed this very much.
ReplyDeleteThe grass of my childhood was covered in daisies, I just don't seem to see so many of them nowadays.
ReplyDeletePeople already up and about there but over here we are just about getting up. The pleasant surprise again, Mary, seeing my post preceded me! Thanks a lot Ma'am!
ReplyDeleteHank
There's nothing like memories of home, and lying in lush green grass staring at the sky. Such lovely moments. Beautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteI can see the green hills of my home, it's lovely Mary. :)
ReplyDeleteI bet you do still have especially green grass in your part of the country, Mary. And even greener in memory. We had lots of lawn but the greenness of it does not stand out to me. And of course the grass of our hills is golden longer than green! I can imagine your green green grass though and it is lovely.
ReplyDeletelovely. lyrical and mesmerizing. I enjoyed this very much, Mary.
ReplyDeleteOh, this is a beautiful green...I want to picnic on it.
ReplyDeleteOh! I want to lay on that grass too. Sounds so peaceful.
ReplyDeleteMemorys are always in full colour!
ReplyDeleteA serene piece, Mary. Bless the evergreen memories, and keep them in your heart!
ReplyDeletePeacefully nostalgic !!!
ReplyDeleteGood yo know it's the grass of home that's greener. So often it's the other's grass.
ReplyDeletelaughing -- oh how our memories distort things! And a healthy mind distorts them as comfort, fun and love!
ReplyDeletebeautiful Mary...where I grew up in PA the grass really was a lush fairly consistent green... here it is pretty diverse, lots of brown patches and every shade of green throughout the warmer months.
ReplyDeleteTouching..the green grass of home..
ReplyDeleteIt's greener on the other side of memory right? I feel your yearning.
ReplyDeleteAHH the green nostalgia ... the green smell of bittersweet memories ... home sweet home ... thanks for sharing this Mary.
ReplyDeleteGreen is now my favorite color!
ReplyDeletea perfect poem for today - Happy St. Patrick's Day Mary!
ReplyDeleteI love how you point out that the details in are memory are more intense than the details in reality. Like the grand size of a house that's really more like a cottage.
ReplyDeleteAs many road trips as I've taken, places I've seen, I would always get exited when we were at last approaching the borders of my home state. The green here is different, somehow more lush, deeper, greener than anywhere else I have ever been. Thanks for reminding me of that,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/
I wrote one with the same song--very different in a way, but maybe more the same. I enjoyed yours.
ReplyDeletealways greener in memory, indeed
ReplyDeletea nice touch of melancholy without getting too heavy :)
oh wonderful!! home sweet home. Would give anything to go back to childhood!
ReplyDeleteOh, I know that feeling!
ReplyDelete.Childhood for me is the sea rockpools and the sand.Green grass is astro turf to me:)
ReplyDeleteThis took me back home :)
ReplyDeleteFresh grass..fresh yet old memories..home is a feeling...not just a place..i can feel that too.. x
ReplyDeleteI can relate to that poem so much. In about ten days I will be stepping off a plane onto the green grass of my home. :-)
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Mary, lazing in the grass, watching the day go by, contemplating clouds. The smell of fresh-mown yards. Sticking a blade between your thumbs and making that funny whistle. There is nothing about grass I don't like. And that's not even counting the kind we used to roll up! LOL. Thanks, hon. Amy
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.com/2013/03/17/five-years-old-first-circus/