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The Green Grass Under the Snow
by
Annie A. Preston


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The work of the sun is slow,
But as sure as heaven, we know;
So we'll not forget,
When the skies are wet,
There's green grass under the snow.


When the winds of winter blow,
Wailing like voices of woe,
There are April showers,
And buds and flowers,
And green grass under the snow.


We find that it's ever so
In this life's uneven flow;
We've only to wait,
In the face of fate,
For the green grass under the snow.

 

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New comments are closed for now.
wyantjl42:
Very musical and reflective. Reminds me of some of Shakespeare's songs.
Posted 03/02/2013 07:05 PM
twinkscat:
This is a beautiful poem. Is it a limerick? If so, a fresh one.
Posted 02/27/2013 02:16 PM
Dorcas:
This is lovely. I know I shall see the verdant pastures and that I will be part of them. Thank you for your reflection.
Posted 02/27/2013 07:47 AM
Katrina:
This is heart-warming. Thank you.
Posted 02/27/2013 06:18 AM


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