Fairy grass

There’s a feathery grass that’s as soft as a sigh
that I oft like to stroke as I am walking by.

Common Bent it is called and as it shakes its head
on the wind all of its soft pink seedlings are spread.

But they call it a weed, though, which is a pity
for whole fields of it, I think, would look quite pretty.

It’s one of nature’s small and delicate things
that my heart loves to gather and, from which, it weaves wings.