Tag Archives: the natural world

The Leaves Are Falling Down By Laura Routh

I enjoyed Laura Routh’s poem “The Leaves Are Falling Down”, https://owlinthewood.com/blog/2018/5/19/first-poem-the-leaves-are-falling-down. For me, the poem isn’t merely about the forest ageing and the coming of Autumn, it also speaks of the harmful effect humans often have on the natural world.

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Greenbelt

I go out
Before the multitude is about
And walk in the wood
Where the air is good
And there are no words
Save for the birds
Who’s song, though not for man
Can set him free
Of desire. So is it for me
As I simply be
Amongst bird and tree.

Then the din
Sets in.
Not of human shout,
Although there are houses here about
That skirt the wood. I here the cry
Of the young in search of homes to call their own.
It is contended that we must sacrifice some green spaces
To accommodate the young’s need for places
To live. But if the Green Belt is no longer sacrosanct
What scant
Greenery will stay
When the planners have had their way?

I doubt this wood will go
Though other spots of green
Now seen
Will turn black
Under tarmac
And some will notice the lack
When the rats race
Where there was once a green place.

Perhaps I am being unfair
For Darren and Claire
And there 2.5 kids need somewhere
To live.
But will their children give
Thanks to mum and dad when there
Is less green
To be seen
Than was previously the case
And nature’s face
Is converted into neat little garden rows.
Who knows?
Not I
But for now I have tree and sky.

A Fox In My Garden

A fox
In my garden, and me
In this elaborate box.

We call down a pox
On the hapless fox
For he
Is free
To kill
At will
The domestic rabbit.
While our own habit
Is to preserve the life of all
Is it not? Although
I recall
That twas man who did fall
From Paradise.

Adam and Eve
Grieve
Over the loss of their pet
And forget
That vice
Is a purely human quality.

I Saw Flowers On My Way Through Yonder Woods Today

I saw flowers on my way
Through yonder woods today.
They were the same bloom
As those I admired
And so desired
Yesternoon.

But no,
I can not be sure
As they grow
In such profuse store.
I think therefore
That it may not be so.

In The Middle Of This Wood

In the middle of this wood
I should
Be able to forget my care.

Fresh air
Is there
And the sun is high
In the cloudless sky
Yet I …

A plane flies by,
Then another one.
Perfect silence has gone.

For modernity we yearn
Then turn
Away.
When each day
Is full
Of dull
“Opportunities” to try …
I cry
Out for the old.

One can not hold
On to the past
But when the future is vast
Supermarket aisles
(where there are no denials
And one is free
To be
Anything or anyone),
I wonder where meaning has gone.

I linger here
As thoughts drear
Contend with birdsong.
I shall go ere long
Back to the street
Where a myriad feet
Have been,
But have they seen?

The pig does merely eat and drink.
Sometimes I think
That he
Has the advantage over me.