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Date Posted: 19:19:27 03/08/01 Thu
Author: Toby Abbot
Subject: Silent Spring

Now that winter's shadows have retreated,
Though her aura of bleakness lingers still,
Sunlight celebrates dark days defeated,
And warms the bones after the cold wind's chill.

Spring grows from the ashes of winter's urn,
And beauty returns to her dominion,
The wheel of creation starts to turn,
Every new sign of life a pinion.

Branch and briar flourish from stark and bare,
Fields that lay barren are full and lush,
Messengers of vernal joy fill the air,
The long missed song of the skylark and thrush.

Yet this joy is tainted with a sadness,
Knowing that this idyll is being slain,
For power is driving men to madness,
To destroy the world and themselves for gain.

Myths tell the tale, though we learn too late,
Mankind will always take more than it needs,
When Eve took from the Tree,she cursed our fate,
But the apple was not knowledge but greed.

To satiate this endless desire,
We decimate forests and poison streams,
This Earth has become a funeral pyre,
A monument to our shallow dreams.

Soon this lost Eden will gasp her last moan,
Even her tears are polluted with waste,
Now,as she returns the abuse we have thrown,
Maybe that apple has a bitter taste.

There will come a spring,it may be near,
When the boughs are silent, and empty the sky,
Nature may ask why we shed no tears,
For she has been raped, abandoned to die.

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