Floating out on Windermere

Below the towering fells

Enveloped by the beauty here

And hosts of daffodils

 

Over the side of the little boat

Oars churn the placid lake

Where unexpected items float

To the Leven and the Crake

 

They meander through the baby trout

And clog their little gills

Of their origin there can be no doubt

Septic tanks and sewage spills

 

Floating out on Windermere

Where swans elegantly sipped

Ecologically it would appear

A balance has been tipped

 

A cloak of algae like a shroud

Suffocates life below

Which wanders briefly as a cloud

To expire in the effluent flow

 

Dead trout and eel and salmon too

No place for them to feed

Amongst the tampons, piss and poo

Of negligence and greed

 

Continuous as the Milky Way

Over the black lake’s fourteen miles

Where deadly cyanobacteria sway

Its presence here defiles

 

A sacred place that once did hum

With insects, fish and birds

Now stagnant under toxic scum

The by-product    - of turds