Blissful Countryside

I just hate the rapid life in suburbia;
The strife in foreign lands including Serbia;
I like the singing of the wind in trees with birds;
I want very much to hear the sounds made by curs.

The scent of boiled sugar sailing the atmosphere;
To ride in a dray pulled by a galloping mare;
Pastoral living is a blissful way of life,
Entwined with nature and a mate that is my wife.

Reflect with me on the awesomeness of the land,
And ponder why concrete jungles are in demand;
Protect the environment, the land where we stand;
No polluting, and no wild slashing would be grand.



























Now we behold the miracle of creation;
Slaves are no longer on the plantation;
Free at last to share equally the lovely view;
Picking coconuts and bananas, clad with dew.


























Reminisce I must, as I sit here on this porch,
Hoping for rains to come and drive away the scorch.
Alas, pastures, hillsides, fields and gardens are green,
With good food for every living thing fat or lean!

© Paterika Hengreaves
January 2000/Barbados