This Is My Home

The smell of sweet grass is her perfume
When the cool breeze blows at high noon
She is my oasis, the place I call home
Where one can roam with all and all are free to roam

The trees grow high and the valleys spread low
And the tips of the mountains are dusted with snow
Her rivers run, but never run dry
And her days are filled with crystal blue skies

Her fish are plentiful enough for all to share
A landscape of beauty filled with fresh air
The birds sing their songs as they sore by
And at night the stars fill her sky

But one day I blinked, and things began to change
The skies were gray, and the air smelled strange
The mountain's snow had now receded
Her once plentiful watersheds now depleted

The trees cut down, now in two
The animals caged, trapped in a zoo
Thick smoke filled the air, so no songs were sung
The plants grew weak and their flowers just hung

Big metal machines drilled the ground and demolished
Then man came, paving the land to look ‘polished ‘
The sun would no longer shine, behind the clouds it hid
The steps towards killing life as we know it, look what we did


This Is My Home

I am currently studying environmental science/studies at Trent University in Peterborough. I typically write poems on whatever I find inspiring at that moment, the ideas just come to me.
One Response
  1. author

    Jacki2 years ago

    I enjoyed this…quite visually enticing…well written.


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