The Good Old Days. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Green thick forests a silent plea,
Where flocks once danced, wild and free.
Sheep and goats, a gentle hum,
Cows and horses, now all gone.

Paths they made through twig and stone,
Nature's lawn, they kept it mown.
Bushes tamed, and weeds kept low,
A landscape sculpted, row by row.

Boys with dreams of cowboy might,
Played with sticks, a mock gunfight.
Feathers for scalps, a secret art,
Tomahawks swung, a playful heart.

Now quiet fields, no hooves do tread,
No children's laughter overhead.
The land lies still, a waiting pause,
Ignoring nature's ancient laws.

Some say change brings brighter days,
But in this quiet, my heart sways.
I wonder where the old days went,
The vibrant life that nature lent.