I once had a sign saying ‘Nature Reserve' -
My present state, I don't think was deserved.
Across my river, blue dragonflies skimmed,
But the state of me now looks really quite grim.
That I was once beautiful, it's hard to believe;
Nowadays, I am finding it so hard to breathe.
Lying all around, there is nothing but junk,
And my once crystal waters are bunged up with gunk.
There is stuff sticking up all over the place -
A fridge, a TV, a battered suitcase;
There are bits of old bike, rusty wheel-caps galore,
Despite such dumping being against our law.
There are supermarket trolleys and an old mattress;
I've sadly become what you'd call ‘a right mess'.
I now resemble what you may call ‘modern art';
In this crazy creation, I did not play a part.
I had always been what you would call ‘pretty wild',
But I was a playground for both adult and child.
I hosted picnicking families having fun in the sun,
And through my waters, wild otters have swum.
Rare plants flourished and kingfishers fished;
Small children played and young lovers kissed.
But now they don't come anywhere near -
The air all around me is lacking in cheer.
My wide expanse is now covered with litter;
About my predicament, I'm feeling quite bitter.
With all this rubbish, my waters are choked;
Feeling this way is certainly no joke.
Folk have allowed me to get into this state;
Within their hands now lies my fate.
Maybe one day, I'll tell a different story,
If ever I'm restored to my former glory.
Angela Wybrow's Other Poems
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Sir Walter Scott
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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