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The Water Meadow. A Poem for two voices. 1930.----2000.
Tail flicking wagtails, yellow and pied,
Darting, and catching their insect food,
Their young at their heels, begging for more.
Tail swishing cows cropping ancient herbage,
Their pollen covered hooves, and yellow lips,
Fertilising the masses of buttercups,and cowslips
By disturbing the insects who help in the act.
The old footpath is now a tarmac drive,
The stream unseen in an underground tunnel.
Lines of chalets all neatly conforming
With space in between for a shining four by four.
Mountain bikes,dogs on leads,drying towels.
Children happily running,shouting and playing.
Has anyone told them of nature's way?
The Farmer's wife's Chrimas Geese busily eating,
All growing fat to command a good price.
The Gander alert, and bossing his flock,
Head outstretched, hissing out warnings.
Then rushing to attack those not heeding,
Wings outstretched - half flying - half running,
Into the fray like a ship at Trafalgar.
The sculpured pond with it's quota of ducks,
Grass neatly clipped by a ten foot mower.
The tractor buzzes round,now the ditches are filled in,
All geared up to progress,whilst making money.
Every thing done to please the residents,
I hope they are happy with their annual visit.
Do they realize that this is man's way, not nature's?
High in the sky a Heavenly chorus as skylarks hover,
House martins,swallows, feed on the wing,
Ducking, swerving in scintillating flight.
Plovers, and corncrakes, searching the ground
For beetles, ladybirds, and daddy long legs,
They feast, grow strong, as nature intended,
One species sustaining the life of another.
The old farm buildings have all disappeared.
Cow sheds, pigsties, and sweet smelling stables,
Now replaced with red-bricked executive suites.
No grunting old pig with pink squeaky piglets.
Just shiny big cars,and plump city men.
Loud music, senseless laughter, infantile jokes.
Replacing the sounds of animals, and nature at work.
The fauna stretching out in its infinate beauty,
Ragged robin, marsh marigold, and spiky mouse tail,
All growing together in jumbled harmony.
Their names competing with the beauty of species.
Meadowsweet, Penny Royal, Cuckoo Flower, Gentian,
Cabbage Thistle, Buttercups, Cowslips, and Daisies.
Reflecting the centuries of nature maturing.
The Water Meadow now changed to a Holiday Village.
They tried very hard to make everything fit in,
But now it is as man, and not nature intended.
A century of nature, lost forever, by human endeavour.
this is a beautiful poem.. the image of pollen
on cow hooves is so powerful
do you think fox hunting should end?
BEAUTIFULLY sad,but you painted a masterpiece with your brush of words,GREAT~ sad yet you did enjoy it ~ THE NEW KIDS NEVER WILL and thats even sadder,thanks friend L&P
Hello, my friend... I have actually read this wonderful poem on the first tour not long ago....but didnt have much time to slow down and write some decent comments. Smilesz. BUt since i am free-er now, i shall do so.... The main strength is in its contrastive elements...of the past and present. U have so skilfully and admirably brought out the beauty of this meadow's history...and yet have also starkly penned down its present (artificial) scene... Great idea to indent the alternative stanzas in this way...makes reading so much easier and lends a sense of flow and opposing development to it . SMilesz. lastly, i wanna say that such a phenomenon happens to one's lives many times...especially when he/she returns to their childhood places. BUt of coz, only you can write it so bittersweetly... I have some experiences with this too...and yes, it was sad...and rather disheartening. If u have the time David....do check out my 2 poems which deal with similar themes as this. Hope u like them: 1. No More 2. Down The School Corridor Smilesz. Hope u liked my comments...and thanxs for this recommendation, David. Look forward to your mails and all. :)