On A Hill

There it stands overseeing man kinds folly!The Foureyed Poet.

The Foureyed Poet

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 monument 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 all around it.

How much longer before it’s destruction?

The Foureyed Poet.

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Published in: on 08/08/2014 at 21:18  Leave a Comment  

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