Providence And Wantoness Poem by Terry Dawson

Amid the blowing winter grass,
Upon a gentle rise
A young man sits in khaki clad
With vision in his eyes.
He sees the rough and virgin land
Transforming in his mind,
He sees the untamed wilderness
Take on shape, defined.

By force of will and strength of mind
The land is caused to yield -
What once was but a wilderness
Is now sleek stock and field.
Harnessed now the bountiful earth;
The farmer plies his trade:
The earth is tilled and silos filled
by toil is progress made.

And year on year by toil and tear
Are more improvements made.
Paddocks fenced where fatstock graze,
Bank overdrafts are paid.
And in wide fields the golden leaf
Grows tall in the summer heat,
Along the path to the farm school
Tread little learners feet.

But now in power are greedy men
By scruple unconstrained,
Whoes lust for riches knows no bounds
Corruptly, much they've gained
And driven by their envious hearts,
Reap where they did not sow;
Through years and years of unrestraint
They've sunk so very low!

Those who have no better trick
Than belittle, mock and jeer,
The lowest dregs of human kind
And vile beyond compare
Come menacing up the dry farm road
To do their filthy worst,
Brandishing their spears and axes
By God! This land is cursed.

And now that farm just lies in ruin,
The tragedy is vast:
The work by generations done, now
A shadow in the past.
And all of which he was justly proud
Is now a devils jest:
Beneath the sun has tyranny done
What tyranny does best!