Lawn Care


Of all the sun, the rain, and warm earth brings

I think that seldom are there many things

As pleasing to the senses as a carpeting of lawn

That catches crystal sunlight in the dew at early dawn,

Or at the heat and height of a midsummer's day

Catches a happy young life at play.


And always with the greatest staying power

Seeks nothing more than sunshine and a shower

To serve itself

And shares of all its wealth

Abundantly and freely, and no hesitation

Fully and completely without reservation

And later in the lingering cool of eve

Will nurture, rest and gently will relieve

The weariness of body, soul, and mind

The rough and tough of spirit, the lovely and the kind.


But left all to itself as days go past

A pleasing lawn will simply just not last

As a comfort and a happy source of joy

Or playground for a young dog and his boy

To aimlessly scamper, cavort and careen

Or lovers to go by the whole world unseen,

Each for themself the other's best toy.


For the softness and green of the succulent leaf

Will harden and toughen and turn pleasure to grief

The sadness of which emotion is felt

By each curious passer who ever knelt

By the hour upon it to watch ants at play

The grass itself now holds them at bay

And now at the lonely end of the day

Will only receive the dark as I leave;

The lovers have surely all gone away.


A lawn, a mind, unpruned nor kept trim

Is a field of grass, harsh, untidy and grim

Appealing neither to body nor eye

The trees all around pray it will die

With the coming of autumn's first sharp freeze

They will bury it gladly with crisp drifts of leaves.

 © Philip Knight 2018