lament of the lark

The combine drives its lonely round
and leaves no speck upon the ground
agri-farmer’s pockets lined with plenty
whilst crop and gizzard remain empty
no butterfly, aphid nor yet a bee
to feed my growing family
no swarm of insects overhead
between the stalks the soil is dead
not long ago the farmers horse
leading on his steady course
would pull the plough, the hoe, the rake
leaving in his stately wake
mounds of dung which left to lie
would feed the beetle or the fly
each juicy grub a feast for me
and other dwellers on the leas
across the field at stately pace
to beat the weather was their race
in numbers ever exponential
no thought of problems consequential
now I fear those halcyon days
are lost forever in the haze
of time and deepest memory
set down in our planet’s story

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Inspired emotion, Self compositions, Uncategorized

One response to “lament of the lark

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.