How it should bee...

(A lament)
Modern world blocking the transmission?
Too much traffic? 
A world too erratic
Does the whispering grass still play a tune
Or has brick and mortar brought it to ruin?
This world is so fast!
Take me back to the past!
It makes such a  din!
I don't know where to begin!
And cars, 
bloody cars everywhere!
If I had any left, 
I'd pull out my hair! 
In times of old
Footpaths were the roads
Shanks' pony was the way
To find work or for play
Or to find rest...
With picnic in hand the best!
The wind would blow
Through the old-town meadow
Whispering soft tunes
As if from a cello
Or at least that's what I heard
(Or my imagination proffered)
It was the sun, you see
Upon the wheat and the grass
Us lazy bees in a honey-glazed mass
We buzzed lightly back then
Not much of a sound
A languid summers day
Seemed so easily found
 And Mother bee could always be found 
Passing sweet lemonade and sandwiches around
They tasted like heaven
In the glow of the sun
In the warmth of our hive
No need to hurry or run
   We had next to nothing
But the comfort of others
The firm, but loving hands
Of sisters and brothers
But time rolls imperceptible
And merciless is its wake
Forever changing life itself
And taking all that we forsake

Now, the buzz is too loud 
And it fills my old head
Dark clouds through my window
Is what I spy from my bed
But if I close my eyes tight
And snuggle right down
I'm back in the old meadow
With that lovely cello sound    
 I think this is were I'll stay now
After all,  it's where I belong
With all the little bees of old
All happily buzzing along 



◄ Political Irrigation!

How free are we? ►


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