The Vanishing Skylark - Poem by roy may
Today I heard an ancient song that took me by surprise,
A song that since creation had filled our country skies.
A song that has for centuries filled mans heart with joy,
A song that brought back memories of when I was a boy.
When I could wander over fields of Clover Grass or Wheat.
Or lay beneath some shady tree to dodge the summer heat.
All throughout these halcyon days above the insects drone.
This joyous song reminded me that I was not alone.
That nature rampant, uncontrolled with vigour unconfined.
Had conquered all our countryside long before mankind.
I realised this sweet birdsong as heard in ancient past.
Was up against man’s progress, whereby it would not last.
For even at a tender age I somehow understood.
That agriculture’s chemicals would do more harm than good.
Then the tide was turning and man fought control to gain.
By removing ancient hedgerows creating one vast plain.
The Poppy and Corncockle were denuded from the Wheat.
Thus no seeds or insects thrive for any birds to eat.
Somehow the lust for progress never seemed to stop and look
at the catastrophic change in river, pond or brook.
Where are the Grass Snakes, Toads or Newts, where is the common Frog.
The flood planes now have houses on where once there was a bog.
No more do we hear Linnets sing with Blackbird Wren or Thrush.
The countryside has taken on an all pervading hush.
We have yet to realise that our inventive skill,
does not enrich diversity but only serves to kill.
Alas mankind’s eternal search for ever rich reward
has sterilised the country over which the Skylark soared.
Will our children still to come ever understand
what drove our generation to create this baron land? .
And yet, I heard a Skylark on an Industry Estate
We now must find another way before it gets too late
They too must hear this ancient song we must not let it die
and forever may they cherish this sweet music of the sky.
Comments about The Vanishing Skylark by roy may
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You