Grass

A bug's paradise, the bugs slide, the bugs house.
The bugs play like kids.               

My thinking place, I pick the grass, I stare at the sky thinking of the things
I could do.     

Under the coat of the green grass is whole ecosystem waiting to be discovered,
And to be explored.

In the day the kids come play except at the night that when everything comes to life
The animals come to play, the owls hoot the cicadas, hum music, the garden comes to life.

The grass is soft like carpet but strong and stiff squishy like a bed.

The kids come, play, run, roll around and even eat the ground
But most importantly they have fun.

The grass sways and the bugs play, everything perfect for another day.

Fresh clean from swaying the nice grass is perfect, useful; it gives us fresh air.

The end