Gulf of Mexico Disaster

(a rhyming Sestina)

We love cars, planes and the rustic garden;
A green thumb is a plus for growing things;
The garden song sings “We beg your pardon”;
To plants and fauna for the blatant wrong;
Such inner thoughts give us the eagle’s wings
To dream of soaring on clouds all day long;

Checking and logging all trees stretch time long;
Dry fingers casting spells on the garden;
Leaves falling to earth like parachute’s wings;
Compost beds breed all sort of nasty things;
Five-fingers starry eyes see miles of wrong
Trailing barnacles send no such pardon.

Beepee gulfed up a belated pardon;
This abuse on minds goes on way too long;
Polluting waters so insanely wrong;
Giant snails leave caustic slime in garden;
Their kiss of death breathes on all sorts of things;
Jets are the only things now with whole wings.

Pelicans walk like crabs; they have no wings;
While corporate greed gets “lone-star” pardon,
For oily fingers do drive gears on things;
The thrill of the drill marches deep and long;
We want our country back in the garden
As was, geico gecko this can’t be wrong!

Abusing nature’s hands that feed is wrong;
Heat in the House grew Atlantic flight wings;
Off he goes; drinks tea in English garden;
Him wearing crest of a southern pardon;
On his racing yacht’s main sail wide and long;
Shake down cherries bring smiles on earthly things.

We give lip-service to recycling things;
Pointing fingers at who is doing wrong;
This curse in the earth has gone on too long;
We abuse mother-nature’s heart and wings;
And mouth on spotlight gives stagecoach pardon;
No trump or be chased like Eve from garden

Among garden things name creatures with wings;
Nature suffers wrong; goes without pardon;
We wait all day long; oil waters garden.

© Paterika Hengreaves