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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Mythology · #2162120
Story Poem Written in June 2018
She sat in the shade of an ancient oak,
Her perfect body wrapped in light's warm cloak,
Invisible to all--except a few,
Who could see the beauty in nature's hue.

Her voice was that of the morning breeze,
Whispering through the oak's spring green leaves,
She spoke to those who understood the wind,
Warning them her patience not to offend.

She watched as humanity trudged through her forests,
Making sure the land they did not deforests,
She punished those who took more than they used,
Attempting their mercenary greed to defuse.

She watched the advancement of civilization,
She wept at humanity's greedy deforestation,
She cried as humankind destroyed the Earth,
The planet on which she gave them birth.

Finally her patience they overstepped,
No longer their excuses would she accept,
Her voice changed, becoming an icy winter cackle,
Seasonal winds sounded like a hunting wolf or jackal.

She released her anger on humanity,
She prayed it would quell their vanity,
Teach them humility and respect,
And their actions help them correct.

She still sits in the shade of an ancient oak,
With her aging body wrapped in light's warm cloak,
She watches as humanity tries to survive,
Her anger that is now in overdrive.

Mother Nature is still extremely pissed,
She knows that global warming will persist,
Until humanity understands,
That its greed is destroying Earth's seas and lands.

Line Count: 32
Form: Quatrain stanzas rhyming aabb.
Written For: June 2018 "Invalid Item

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