There were grass-hoppers once, in these fields of green.
Leaf-hoppers too and a myriad other tiny wing'ed ones.
Now bees fidget fretfully along the hedgerows.
Lady-bugs, now only the twelve-spot greenhouse slaves.
Monsanto's beetles badgering them as they fiddle.
These ditches that once housed frogs and musk-rat, ferocious diving beetles,
The sky absent the wheeling martins, the boisterous larks.
Gone the pests, I rue the dearth,
bring me back my mud, my earth.
Never was I annoyed by them, always an ally that buggy thing,
Who yet knows how the June bugs sing?
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
There were grass-hoppers once, in these fields of green.
Leaf-hoppers too and a myriad other tiny wing'ed ones.
Now bees fidget fretfully along the hedgerows.
Lady-bugs, now only the twelve-spot greenhouse slaves.
Monsanto's beetles badgering them as they fiddle.
These ditches that once housed frogs and musk-rat, ferocious diving beetles,
The sky absent the wheeling martins, the boisterous larks.
Gone the pests, I rue the dearth,
bring me back my mud, my earth.
Never was I annoyed by them, always an ally that buggy thing,
Who yet knows how the June bugs sing?