The Blade on the Grass

                                        The  Blade  On the   Grass.

                    The glimmering, yet uncut ting  blade,

                     Lie  aslant, uncared for, 

                    The  edges wear  a  worried look;

                    Its  bluntness  from constant exposure

                    to fogginess, looks  as if unforgiving 

                    the  weather, for  the degradation  wrought.

                    While the Grass is  paying  Thanksgiving,

                     Dancing  with hue and sturdy,

                    Wintry  shield  pampers the bunch.

                    How  two lie on the  selfsame  bed!