It Ain't All Bad

I am lying in the grass
looking at the world

The flowers shed their secrets
when petals softly curled

Humble bees like postman
of the countryside

Deliver daily pollen by
airmail to the hive

And the branches of the willow
as if guided by the breeze

Conduct the butterflies
to unheard symphonies

The leaves that seem to skate
upon the surface of the stream

Forming letters on the water to
narrate the writers dream

The cowslip and the clover
seem to jostle for extra room

And the clock on the dandelion
says I must be going soon

Still no one can deny me
the pleasures I've just had

Goodbye real world
you've just proved

It Ain't All Bad.


by:  Graham R. Lomas

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