There's smoke in the distance not an unusual sight
The neighbors are mixed up in a particular nasty fight
In the evening the smoke turns from black to white
In the morning please God show them the light

I sit alone amongst the bamboo shoots
Nibbling all day down to the roots

I sigh and look up into the air
I wish I was a polar bear

They play in the snow, swim, hunt fish
Much tastier than a bamboo dish

Then again, I could be a Two-toed sloth
Or spinning around a candle like a Luna moth

Maybe I’ll just sit here and fill my boot
Nibbling all day on these bamboo roots

Seduced by progress
                       now paying the price
A treat on Friday
                            still curry and rice
Bills monthly or Quarterly
                                  grips like a vice
The nit comb on Sunday
                                 to rid you of lice
A million pound bonus
                            to the not very nice
No cheese left in the pantry
                 can't blame the dead mice
They said how can we help you
                    don't let them ask twice
Wrap up warm in the winter
                       was their only advice

I follow her print to the forest deep
where the thicket howl and the trees weep
and among the nettles she did creep
skipping up the hills so steep

Then for awhile I lost her print
covered in rosemary thyme and mint

I strayed for a moment or maybe a mile
a tap on the shoulder, she said with a smile

Are you lost dear friend or are you just at play
if you can keep up I'll show the way
to fields of corn and cities of hay
there you can sit with us, but just for the day

I opened my eyes from that sweet deep sleep
please don't be just a dream, I start to weep

A tap on the shoulder, she said with a smile
I'll follow you closely for just a mile
when you come to the road fork with the large sleeping gnome
the right fork will take you 50 skips from your home

I sat in the window, Mum said, how was your day
I said, I laid in the corn next to the cities of hay
I met a new friend who invited me to play
I'll go back tomorrow if I can remember the way

And the world woke that cold winter morning
there was no light
there was no heat
vehicles were left where they stopped
not abandoned just worthless

We looked out the window
dressed in overcoats, scarf, onesie's
and double socks
trying not to breath on the glass

Neighbors shrugging shoulders
listening to a battery operated radio
fuming at the demands coming from the
private islands of the new world oligarchs

Across the way
smoke billowed form a house which still had
a chimney, we could feel the heat

I told the children stories of when I was a child
In the winter I had to get the coal from the
coal bunker at the bottom of the garden
chop sticks place them on top of old news papers
and light the fire for my brothers and sisters

The good old days I smiled to myself
as I found an unused summer barbecue
we huddled around it and toasted some bread
the children laughed
we will survive

Under the willow he held her hand
professed his love with a golden band

She looked into his eyes and thought awhile
then professed her thoughts with a golden smile

I like you a lot, to be with you is good fun
to spend the rest of my life, sorry your not the one

Don't look at me that way this is not your end
with time your heart will surly mend

So, she left him there perched on one knee
under the bows of the old willow tree

The clouds gathered
some were ready for the storm
some were not
some seen it all before
ignoring the signs

Influential people
passionate about their own
history would not evolve
lost in the pillage of the past
desperate for more

Desperate people
desperate to make a statement
with no platform of their own
violence seemed their only option
now no better that the influential

Poets wrote sagas, remembering the past
of all its terrors, destruction, heartache
history is repeating itself they wrote
famine, death, diseases, hatred, greed
poems left unread

So it begins, said the daily news