White Lace on a Pale Green Ground
The breeze creates a rippling tide
of Queen Anne’s Lace from side to side;
the lovely tops design a spread
more beautiful than any bed.
***
The grass beneath is pale and dry,
through heat and drought it does not die.
The flowers come but once a year,
a welcome sight that’s held most dear.
***
But not to last for, to my dread,
the mowers cut them, every head!
How bare, how stark the meadow lay,
its graceful blanket torn away.
***
Ah! Now I wait another year
for fragile blooms to reappear.
All winter long, beneath the snow
the Queen Anne’s Lace prepares to grow!
***
The cruel blade it will defy
when August comes with sunny sky;
the sweet white lace will then be found
Garlanding the pale green ground.
***
Eleanor Lawrie
August 16, 2011
Eleanor Lawrie, Author 