The House of the Trees
& Other Poems

by Ethelwyn Wetherald


In the Grass

FACE downward on the grass in reverie,
          I found how cool and sweet
Are the green glooms that often thoughtlessly
          I tread beneath my feet.

In this strange mimic wood where grasses lean—


          Elf trees untouched of bark—
I heard the hum of insects, saw the sheen
          Of sunlight framing dark,

And felt with thoughts I cannot understand,
          And know not how to speak,


A daisy reaching up its little hand
          To lay it on my cheek. [Page 56]