I)
As I walk down from Bury Ring
I gasp at seas of plastic
To feed extended seasons
Stupidity fantastic.

If we ate fruit in season
No need for sights obscene
And all the seas could be rolled up
We’d see our verdant green.

But when it rains it washes soil
That carries down the lanes
It puts money in people’s pockets
The land, it never gains.

And now we are in winter
The seas of plastic rolled
Revealing frames of ugliness
That sag now, uncontrolled.

There is an orchard that I know
That fills my fascination
Wherein the Ashmead Kernels grow
In natural inclination.

But come the late October days
The fruit is at its peak
With tastes that fill the senses
I hardly dare to speak.

And what I’ve learnt is patience
The wait increases joy
You see, we’re meant to wait awhile
It’s Mother Nature’s ploy.

©Joe Wilson – What price the environment…2016