Heron

The graceful Heron a waterfowl, as quiet as the Great White Owl.
Settles down amongst the reeds, of the swamplands so they can feed
With one leg poised for instant lift, their wingspan is their greatest gift.

As they gaze through the mire, there is just one thing to which they aspire
With elongated beaks of such proportions they find and grab tasty portions
To nurture their fledgling nest,  and protect them from certain death

But soon it seems their fate will be, complete extinction you must agree
For man's quest for fossil fuels, and an absence of moral scruples
Have poisoned oceans, seas and shores, with dispersant, oil and more

Without regards to repercussions in their quest for more production
Man sees fit to cause destruction,  to all life without remorse or discussion
In his quest to possess he has caused our world much distress

Natures gifts to human kind, seem destined to become  entwined
Within man's mighty grasp, Nature's voice now just a gasp
Soon her death we will perceive, but way too late to intercede

When the animals of the land, sea and air,  are no longer here or there
Or will man change his ways today, before this problem comes to stay.
If he doesn't then soon we'll see other life on earth will cease to be.

When this comes a new age begins, one without the touch of man.

© October 5, 2010.  M Suzanne Wyatt, All rights reserved