Felling the Last Tree In the Ancient Forest

Felling The Last Tree In The Ancient Forest He cursed life, lifted his last stone flung it at the hard gusting winds Through the roar he heard its feeble moan and he denied they were ever true friends. Cursing again, he took his axe to swing with mighty chop giving cuts no bleeding There was now silence from this massive thing and upon its agony his hate started feeding. Muttering profusely, axe chipping chunks away with sweat now dripping like summer rain Through the chips a'flying, he heard it say death comes, I am dying, yet I feel no pain. Dancing gaily, as mighty oak fell with a plop with anger abated, he gave almighty his thanks For this new cleared land and its promised crop coming bounty, gold with which to pay the bank. R.J. Lindley, June 3rd, 1977 Rhyme, (Why Ancient Forests Are Vanishing)