Reached the office with time to spare,
breathed in the scented air;
On a whim, I ventured outside,
seeking pathways, seldom tried.
Surrounded by pure glass and chrome,
like a silver plated tomb;
Sleek arrow roads in black asphalt,
Cars arrive in blank default.
Armies bedecked in dull dress code,
March in quiet automode;
Eyes glazed, silent, lost in thought,
of the stocks they nearly bought.
Such grey monotonous scenery,
not a patch of greenery;
I sigh and search for just one tree,
A sign that life is still for free.
Trees there are, but landscaped still,
Primped and preened, with no free-will;
Moulded to a modern design,
Not one blessed natural line.
Lawns are shorn and manicured,
Prisoners; they've been so allured;
Like frozen sheets of plastic green,
Not my grassy banks of evergreen.
And then I spy a clump of clover,
springing forth it seems to hover;
Stubborn, with pure will survives,
finding ways, it grows and thrives.
Beneath a polished cobblestone,
green grass grows softly unknown;
Within the secret weeds grown wild,
I spy a beetle and we smiled.
©
And I smile with you, a very well written poem. Thanks for sharing-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An excellent poem, even in the concrete jungle where nature isn't wanted, she sneaks in, in her own quiet way. Tango.