Gone

GONE The birds have all been driven far away, we long to hear the pleasure of their trill mining has come to our small town to stay. We're covered in the dirty dust of grey, bird's habitat has vanished by the drill The birds have all been driven far away. No sight of any glint of sunlight ray it's blocked out by the drilling on the hill mining has come to our small town to stay. Parrots, finches no longer seen at play nor magpies warble songs to bring us thrill the birds have all been driven far away. Oppressive is this sombre colour grey, oh how we wish the sky with blue to fill mining has come to our small town to stay. We pray that greedy man will cease to drill and once again trees flourish on the hill, the birds have all been driven far away, mining has come to our small town to stay. Copyright © Vivien Wade Oct. 2016 A Villanelle with 10 syllable lines.