By Simon Marshland
Where fly our bees and butterflies
Where nest our birds of song
Who cares if our last meadow dies
Who bothers what’s gone wrong
What selfish careless things we’ve done
How deep should be our shame
Cupidity and greed have won
Base urge of the inane
This land is ours but ours on trust
Not ours to mar despoil
Ten million years turned back to dust
Two thousands wasted toil
There is still time but only just
Still time to mend our ways
And together with concerted thrust
Reverse this trend that slays
Aid the miracle of rebirth
For the children yet unborn
To shape a fresh and new Earth
With a living breathing dawn
For more from Simon Marshland, please visit his site "Simon Says".
For more information on writing, please visit "The New Author".
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