Mary Braithwaite Poet Villanelle

The Buttercups Have Gone

The fields that once held buttercups are gone
Giant furrows pattern that  long land
Made by huge machines   whose time has come

Precise as  old account books , now forlorn,
As  moving as are waves on desert sand
The fields that once held buttercups have gone

Nothing human-sized remains untorn
Nowhere for dear  lovers hand in hand
Killed by huge machines   whose time has come

But young folk do not court, they hurry on
Annihilating what we elders understand
The fields that once held buttercups have gone

All too rapidly our world’s undone
To the deserts of the heart we’re sent
Dragged by by huge machines   whose time has come

Can no passion change the way nor lend
Creative means to pacify  and  mend?
The fields that once wore buttercups have gone
Ground by huge machines,death times have come

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Brigid Foley September 10, 2018 at 1:46 PM How times have changed, life in it's innocence has been overtaken by machines. Really liked this. Mary Braithwaite October 19, 2022 at 1:24 AM I apologise for not replying to you earlier and I would like to thank you very much for this beautiful comment.Maty Mary Braithwaite September 10, 2018 at 2:33 PM Thank you,Brigid.No more hedgerows just huge fields so we lose our little birds and other creatures