A poem by: Ben Dunk. 1978
Oh! for the wild trill of the linnet,
Oh! for the mad flight of the jay,
Oh! for the skip-run of the rabbit,
they have disappeared today?
Show me once more the song thrush,
throwing his song to the sky,
Show me the spoor of a pheasant,
dragging his tail through the snow,
Show me stripped bark by the roe deer,
eaten when frost winds do blow.
There’s nothing left by the fly.
I roamed the downs to find plovers-
nests with four eggs in colours.
I roamed the marsh to find moorhens,
croaking so gay midst the reeds
I roamed the stream bank for otters,
the water was all foam and stank,
We have only ourselves to thank.
I looked and could not see sea gulls,
on water nor in the sky.
I looked and couldn’t see fishes,
darting around in the brine.
I looked for cows in the meadows,
but they could not stand the clime.
We’re nearing the end of our time.
Where is the smell of a rose bud,
holding the morning dew.
Where is the smell of a farmyard,
now they have destroyed the ley.
Where is the smell of raindrops,
without the constituent smoke.
Save us from this nightmare day!
NB: When an accomplished person or persons
are available, introduce as an accompaniment to the poem,
human-voice imitations of animal
and bird’s sounds..