Muddy waters
Left
By teeming rains
Runs off plastic tunnels
To fill country drains.
Overflows them
Runs to stream
Spoiling water
For Chub and Bream.
But we want fruit
And all year round
So much harm
Done to the ground.
Seasonal choices just don’t suit
In Mother Nature we stuck the boot!

We’re saving air-miles
Sponsors shout
Picked fruit in season
Makes air-miles nowt.

For we now live
A life of plenty
We pick and choose
One fruit or twenty.
Yet even here
And now – give thanks
A growing throng
Must use food banks.

We have to learn
To share our wealth
For poverty creeps
In quiet stealth.

©Joe Wilson – Something isn’t right…2017