Mar 18
I had a dream about a crystal stream
Where poets once wrote and young lovers dreamed
About the beautiful years to come
Now the crystal stream is a fetid place
Or sewage and industrial waste
The hedgerows long ripped out and gone
Once green fields now ripped and torn
And the beautiful years have gone
But still the poets sit and dream
And write about what might have been
They sit and write about the crystal stream
About how young lovers held hands and dreamed
About the beautiful years to come
But I no longer sit and dream
Because the beautiful years have gone
Where poets once wrote and young lovers dreamed
About the beautiful years to come
Now the crystal stream is a fetid place
Or sewage and industrial waste
The hedgerows long ripped out and gone
Once green fields now ripped and torn
And the beautiful years have gone
But still the poets sit and dream
And write about what might have been
They sit and write about the crystal stream
About how young lovers held hands and dreamed
About the beautiful years to come
But I no longer sit and dream
Because the beautiful years have gone
This is a re write of something I posted many years ago but now almost daily I read about how a beautiful Southern chalk streams are being poisoned by raw sewage and chemicals being washed off of farmland. Where have the beautiful years of my childhood gone?
