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Urban Sprawl

Ancient Jurassic stone casts out the grime long gone the fog of industrial crime. Main thoroughfare now left in peace no local blues to sing in the old coachman’s Fleece*. When moonlight bathes within the silver stream and moor lane glistens invoking its crystal beam. The low moor awakes shadows cast aside the morning new lays waste the genocide. Yet productive time lords stake out progression cloudless valley unfolds the beast. Quaint radiant faces cry out for comfort summer solace bequest the east. The strangers come in flight from fear a different way their actions to sway. Dialect gives away its tradition rustic voice forever gone astray. Salacious stiletto the thorn of the city each atrocity fuels the seeds of pity. Country roses nurtured in rural delight wafting delirious amidst the argillite. *pub, ale house. © Harry J Horsman 1993

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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Date: 4/21/2020 7:21:00 AM
Even suburbs are opting for concrete instead of grass and lawns in their gardens and have pot plants to ease their consciousness a little. Fierce but beautiful forest animals have had their homes brought down by lumbermen and wander into cities where high rise buildings are forever being built. How sad. They are probably darted and taken to a zoo. Excellent poem! Blessings, Jennifer
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Date: 4/19/2020 5:12:00 AM
Hi Harry, I love the content of this excellent write. It looks like concrete is taking over the world. A lovely piece of green ends up as a housing estate. Trees that have stood for many years, where they stood, factories, belching death into the air. Give me wide, open spaces, they give peace and life to the heart. Have a wonderful Sunday. Your friend always....Mike.
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Date: 3/28/2020 10:07:00 AM
Slowly turning into a concrete jungle...This is great poetry .
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Date: 3/27/2020 8:00:00 AM
wonderful. I even agree that immigrants alter things, and often away from Native ways/mores. I advocate immigrants be limited to fewer than natives in any region. Of course the city is the proverbial magnet, for gain, crime, and sin. This COVID-19 shows cities are weaker, & more virus-prone than rustic siblings. shalom, shalom & thanks for this grand offering
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Date: 3/26/2020 5:39:00 PM
It's happening here before my very eyes. This lovely little village became a town and is now a city and is still growing. Where once cattle grazed is a large shopping mall. I hate it. Good job here. God Bless, JB
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Date: 3/26/2020 3:00:00 PM
I think the Muse had you by the throat.I would have to guess what word you chose. Very articulate and portentous!
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Date: 3/26/2020 7:50:00 AM
one can see this eerie image as it's unfolding all around the world... excellent write wishes in the contest! hugs and blessings
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Date: 3/24/2020 8:21:00 PM
G'day Harry … we in this little country town that I lived my childhood in with great memories are now the victim of this urban sprawl. Perhaps this pandemic might change things for a very long time - great poem indeed Harry - Lindsay
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Date: 3/24/2020 5:38:00 PM
May the good Lord steak our progression and help us to lift off again, when this ordeal is over. Thank you for sharing dear Harry, stay healthy, and prosper xo
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Date: 3/24/2020 1:08:00 PM
Bravo Harry, brilliant write...
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Date: 3/24/2020 10:09:00 AM
Very sad poem, Harry, a city will rise again and fear be gone. Good luck in the contest it has good flow and content.
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Date: 3/23/2020 10:00:00 PM
Your verse has a timeless interpretation Harry, Great write..
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