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Poetry
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The Vanishing
By roy
27 May 2007
vanishing wildlife


 The Vanishing
 
Today I heard an ancient song that took me by surprise,
A song that since creation has echoed in our skies
A song that has for centuries filled mans heart with joy.
A song that brought back memories of when I was a boy
When I could wander over fields of clover grass or wheat
Or lay beneath some shady tree to dodge the summer heat
All throughout these halcyon days above the insects drone
This joyous song reminded me that I was not alone
That nature rampant, uncontrolled with vigour unconfined
Had conquered all our countryside long before mankind
I realised this sweet birdsong as heard in ancient past
Was up against man’s progress, whereby it would not last
For even at a tender age I somehow understood
That agriculture’s chemicals would do more harm than good
Then the tide was turning and man fought control to gain
By removing ancient hedgerows creating one vast plain
The poppy and corn cockle were denuded from the wheat
Thus no seeds or insects thrive for any birds to eat
Somehow the lust for progress never seemed to stop and look
At the catastrophic change in river, pond or brook
Where are the grass snakes, toads or newts, where is the common frog
The flood planes now have houses on where once there was a bog
No more do we hear linnets sing with blackbird wren or thrush
The countryside has taken on an all-pervading hush
We have yet to realise that our inventive skill
Does not enrich diversity but only serves to kill
Alas mankind’s eternal search for ever rich reward
Has sterilised the country over which the Skylark soared
Will our children still to come ever understand?
What drove our generation to create this baron land?
 
And yet, I heard a Skylark on an Industry Estate
We now must find another way before it gets too late
They too must hear this ancient song we must not let it die
And forever they may cherish this sweet music of the sky.

Reviews
"Silent Spring"?
Written by fellpony (1608 comments posted) 27th May 2007
The title drew me in to read the whole very effectively. Unimpeachable sentiments Roy, though possibly "after the fair" in England these days, where pollution has been starting to reverse for at least one decade if not two. But i know it's possible that you wrote this some time ago; and its currency is not the issue here. 
 
You manage the rhymes quite neatly, not too obviously, and the metre trots along too with only a few roughnesses. 
 
I was a bit confused by the last four lines; I think "they" refers to the children in the previous few lines? It didn't read quite clearly. 
 
A couple of spelling oddities where you've got homonyms: 
planes should read "plains" 
baron should read "barren" 
 
denuded = possibly "excluded"? (it's the wheat field that has been denuded of the wild flowers) 
 
A strong message and a well managed piece of verse. 

Written by Phil (6713 comments posted) 27th May 2007
Fellpony has just about said it all. Not my favourite kind of poetry, but handled well and you delivered your message strongly. 
 
Phil.
hmmm
Written by pualdo (10 comments posted) 27th May 2007
i thought it was good, but i also thought it could be improved by doing without a few of the parts that come off as slightly over-sensitive: 
 
"cherish this sweet music of the sky" 
"for even at a tender age..." 
 
the poem has a good ring to it, but these sorts of lines tend to make me think that too much passion is being written into every line, where excessive passion may come off as dishonest for the subject matter. 
 
Although it may just be that i'm too detached for these lines. Maybe other people disagree, I don't know.
Idealistic/idyllic
Written by Bagheera (683 comments posted) 27th May 2007
From a self-confessed lover of semantics and the joy of "playing" with words, both their meanings and their sounds! 
 
Living in a highly OVER-industrialised society (and NOT from choice!!) I have recently had the pleasure of holidays in two NON-industrialised countreis, Ireland and Denmark. 
 
The sheer joy of hearing Nature greet the new day with natural sounds (such as birdsong, as opposed to the sparrers coffin' their guts out in the streets of Liverpool!) can't be beat, and your poem reminded me very much of how things have changed here in NW England during my lifetime ..... :sigh  
 
Glad to see others have mentioned the typos, which DIDN'T spoil it for me BTW ....... :grin  
 
An enjoyable and thoughtful piece of writing - thank you! :grin

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