On a hill that lonely beech tree stands
silently swaying always surveying.
gazing down on town and country lands
of countless changes and shrinking size
so much has happened since it has stood
undisturbed growing so gracefully
buildings creeping nearer it’s not good
now our air is far more polluted
with an unobstructed view no less
it has seen many phases of life around
a distant train echoes through the stillness
as it moves swiftly homeward bound
early morning mist from the valley
covers the motorway that scars the land
man’s mission to destroy natures tally
rising toxic fumes and roaring traffic sounds
neutral of human ways unable to escape
generations move on we all come and go
the tree remains keeping its shape
as the world changes rapidly all around!
How much longer before it’s destruction?
The Foureyed Poet.
Malctg - The Foureyed Poet.
Reblogged this on The Foureyed Poet and commented:
There it stands overseeing man kinds folly!The Foureyed Poet.
Your poetry always takes me elsewhere…beautifully penned! 🙂
the trees tell the tale of progress in tears
I like how your poetry always tells a story