By Aeswyn OR
Out of the ether they come to us
Those spirits ethereal.
But there is no place
For them to dwell.
The ancient woodland is gone,
Men stripped the land
To search for coal
And the majik woodland is gone.
No blades of grass, no flower sweet
No fungi left at all.
No insect flies, no bird will stay
The rabbit and the badger are gone.
No life is left, men murdered this
For ‘Greed’ the new-found god.
How long before the grass will grow?
How long for the trees to mature?
How long before the children play
In bluebell wood and buttercup meadow?
Where will those holy spirits
Find home to rest their heads?
I fear for them as I fear for us
With life and majik gone.
How long before they will return
With fungi, flower and tree?
How long before sweet mossy banks
Will know pure water’s flow.
How long before the hearts of men
Will waken to this doom.
How long before those waken men
Bring back the land to bloom