The View (With Apologies To William Blake) Poem by Danny Draper

Vista, vista, crystal sight
From the dwelling day or night,
What mortal leaf or frond
Could frame thy clear full imagery?

In what distant real estate price
Burns the value of investment realised?
Of what vision dare they obscure-
What on land dare screen the viewer?

And what foliage, and there grew,
Could plot to forsake thy view,
And when the crown began to reach,
What dread hand, did lop for breach?

What pole-pruner? what chainsaw?
In crippled frame was thy eyesore?
What the glyphosate? what dread hole
Dare its deadly poisons trawl?

When the sun grew green over soil,
And life diverse met changes' toil,
Did he want beyond the azimuth to see?
Did he who made the tree make thee?

Vista, vista, crystal sight
From the dwelling day or night,
What mortal leaf or frond
Dare frame thy clear full imagery?