Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Lagoons of sadness

entry picture

Cracked mud.  Black trees.  Dead grasslands.

Vast lagoons reduced to puddles.

Jungle Babblers scuff  beside the pathways.

A few ducks dabble.


But I remember Bharatpur before,

in ‘89 - the wetlands shimmering.

A haunt of Sarus Crane and Painted Stork

where duck counts peaked in millions,


and how a young man stood here once,  bedazzled

by dancing cranes and diving snakebirds,

and coming home to England from his travels

resolved to make his life’s work


championing the miracles he’d found here.

Workaday problems sapped his will.

He faltered while the world got hot around him,

baking hard until,


determined to refresh the vision,  he,

dismissing talk of drought as madness,

returned.  To cracked mud.  Black trees.

Vast lagoons of sadness.

◄ Tom's last poem

God The Banana on Harrogate Alternative Radio ►


Profile image

Harry O'Neill

Thu 17th Dec 2015 22:59

I particularly like the clarity of this one, and that last line. You are very readable (and - I`m sure - easy to listen to)

Good luck in your Global ambitions and merry Christmas.

Profile image

Tim Ellis

Thu 17th Dec 2015 21:12

The final one of the 17 poems that make up "Speak The Unspeakable", so I shall cease depressing you all and leave you alone now. Don't forget the complete pamphlet is available on Amazon and Kindle, or via my website
I was delighted that the world leaders managed to sign some sort of agreement on climate change in Paris while I've been posting these poems; not so happy to hear our MPs voted to allow fracking under National Parks yesterday. The fight continues...
Wishing a happy festive season to everybody on Write Out Loud with whom I've exchanged comments recently, and let's hope the new year brings us a cleaner, healthier world!

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message