PLUNDER
Where common fellows rarely meet
the ancient hedge and clump of trees,
but little modified by time,
mark out the spot
where footpaths cross like passing streams.
And here they gently weave and flow,
so often lost to human eye,
as brambles and the swaying sward
like anglers rods reach out
and touch with glaze of morning rime.
A vestige this of heritage
untinctured by the acts of man,
in danger now from urban sprawl
by progress needs perceived in haste
as man invades his legacy.
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Author:
Michael Edwards (
Offline)
- Published: February 20th, 2017 01:20
- Comment from author about the poem: A short one today plus another watercolour of my local town.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 74
Comments7
Rich with poetic eloquence the verse epitomizes heedless uprooting of much old countryside legacy in place after place -- a triumph of a poem along with the wonderfully alive watercolour - thanks for sharing both with us Michael.
Thanks so much Fay - I'm so much a country lover and the area where I live is rich in natural beauty but there is a relentless creep of urban sprawl which is going to spoil it all in time for those who follow us. One of the sad facts for a small island like ours.
I can relate. I love the picture and your poem is very telling about the future. We have enough huge buildings and roads. Too much is just too much.
Thanks for your comment WriteBeLight - just one problem we face in the world today.
Thanks MICHAEL ~ as is your wont ~ the picture perfectly complements the poem ! Globally we are becoming more Urban annually ! Scenes that you picture & paint & poemise are in fact disappearing fast being replaced by faceless Malls as in the USA. We must fight (in the UK) to preserve our amazing Villages and Green Belts. Concrete is the root of all Rural destruction ~ BRIAN
Thanks Brian - concrete is the new grass - and we suffer for it.
Great write and great picture
Thanks yet again Tony for your kind endorsement.
Welcome
It truly is a plundering of our legacy. The pirating of land for progress' sake is the booty. What was once a village is now an obscene concrete block called a city. Nature yields, giving up her beauty, her creatures, her air and water, and for what? Another MacDonalds? Please. . . give me the open spaces.
Loved your painting and your poem. So eloquently spoken and directly spot on. - Phil A.
Thanks Phil - part of the trouble in the UK is the cost of land which is at a premium. When a developer offers enormous sums to farmers and land owners ....well!
Wonderful poem
Michael...
Just so good..
Well done !!!
Thanks PH
In my youth I walked the Woods and. Swamps. The water was clear and potable. Now what little is left is covered in slime.great write and water coloring.
Cheers Augustus. Not all is lost though as many of our rivers are much cleaner these days without industrial waste being pumped into them - but that's small consolation.
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