Death Of The Trees Poem by Denis Martindale

My town is a place where
The rich tourists come,
With mountains and rivers
That glint in the sun!
Luxuriant beaches
Of ivory sand,
But all the jade forests
Now no longer stand!

There once were lush jungles
That grew dense and tall,
But woodcutters came when
The town was still small...
They hacked all the trees down
And shipped them away,
In huge merchant vessels
That sailed to the bay!

They went back to Europe
With precious hard woods,
Sold it as furniture
And other fine goods...
I wish I could travel
In time to the day
Before people cleared all
The forests away!

I wish I had seen them
Before settlers came,
The mountains and rivers
May still be the same...
Iron, Yellow, Black Wood
And most of all trees,
Don't sway any more in
The fresh coastal breeze...



This poetry is an adapted poem for
Lisa La Grange, her copyright,2012.