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Forest fields



Listen to the merry cheering

As their saw bites through the tree,

Listen to the workmen’s jeering

Things ain’t what they used to be.

 

How the men set to with vigour

As the saw growls through the wood.

As the branches start to wobble

As these chaps do what they should.

 

Rid the garden of its burden

Trunk, branches, leaves, birds’ nests,

Blotting out the sun from shining

On the clothesline’s pants and vests.

 

Listen to the men hurrahing

As the lime tree topples down.

As the “Forest” becomes now daily

A bit more like things are in town.

 

Ron Gardner

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at www.waterstones.com

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