Sonnets on Nature and the Environment.


Seen as the blue planet, the Earth from Space.
Ball of limited size in its vastness.
Just perched out there in its allotted place.
A viewing, and cannot but be impressed.

Many lifeforms, including ours, reside.
Dependant, for life, on its resources.
Their conditions to exist, satisfied.
What’s available seems inexhaustive.

But damage can be inflicted upon.
Made, by all-out war, inhospitable.
By deadly processes, species be gone.
Air to breath, made undeliverable.

Could be crashed into, and sent veering off.
Crushed, burned, explode. Take care, before we’re off.


There is no one here in this field of grass,
other than my dogs and me, on the path.
Long reeds swaying in the breeze, as we pass.
A community of living long grass.

Notice a few birds over the far side,
strolling along, free, on their piece of ground.
Will return to the trees, if they decide.
Like a family, those black crows around.

Seems like no other living soul in sight,
although small flyers, I don’t register.
And insects on and in the earth alright.
For them, land’s as vast as America.

So, not deserted, but populated,
my realisation, grass-related.


The light would normally attract insects,
but, the new normal’s far fewer. Lots gone.
Reasons for their absence may be complex.
Something in the environment’s gone wrong.

Outside is dirtier. That should have helped.
Means plenty of chances to feed and breed.
But clearly diminished some way by stealth.
Something is missing that is what they need.

Pollution and poisonous pesticides.
Vegative surroundings, less abundant.
In the home, ‘effective’ insecticides.
Allow, not kill, but humans reluctant.

Their catastrophic extermination
affects life beyond. An aberration.


Huge expanses of green algae cover
most of the river visible to me.
An extensive green carpet, or rather,
a threadbare old rug, imagine I see.

It looks sort of solid on the surface,
but it most definitely is not that.
One step upon, and dryness will forfeit.
Two steps, and submerge in a mighty splash.

The green weed will die off, before too long;
but for a week or so, still leave its mark.
The water will have its green dye upon.
The river become it. Colour impart,

from the algae essence. Until the new
water dilutes, then clears, as it flows through.


The Sun is warm, but the wind with it cold.
Looking at the blue sky, ‘would think ‘perfect’.
The back of my neck feels the warmth take hold,
but then a draught, the heat’s grip does eject.

That breeze, if not come from Siberia,
probably from the Atlantic Ocean.
The air chilled over a wide area,
and by some force to emphatic motion.

And yet interspersed is the summer heat.
In its moments, it is very welcome,
as with its temperature, does me greet.
This I am most thankful for, to the Sun.

But then a blast causes me to shiver.
Again warm. And cold. Repeat together.


It does not take long to appreciate
how remarkable it is to exist.
If self-absorbed concerns eliminate,
can see things which would, otherwise, be missed.

A miracle, after all, a part of.
In this place. At this time. It’s wonder-full.
Trees and birds. Grass and water. All I love.
And I am seen amongst, as integral.

Just a moment, then, to appreciate,
before the personal matters intrude.
Before news reports start to agitate.
Before this greatness replaced by the crude.

It is well-worth the appreciation. Come,
see the world as diverse. See it, as one.


All of those different worlds that I see.
That I see as stars in the far distance.
In the far distance, way way above me.
Above me, their secret of existence.

What I know is so elementary.
So elementary, negligible.
Negligible, intellectually.
Intellectually, it’s ‘bugger all’.

The sky is beyond my comprehending.
Comprehending, though, those stars being there.
Being there now, though may not be. Ending.
Ending in time it takes to be seen here.

Intelligent life in the universe?
Universe? Or, one I’m in, just the first.


Small expanse of water, utterly still.
Metallic gloss covering the surface.
Reflections from above ground, it distils.
The same, but to upside-down converted.

The nearby river, I see, running high.
Full and high with a current that is swift.
Like diluted green paint flowing on by.
Liquid-mass putting in a busy shift.

Then, on the field beyond there is flooding.
A new, long, lake brought into existence.
When soaked-up, put the mud into muddling.
Now, though, too much for the ground’s resistance.

Water. Green, grey, silvery, metallic.
Active, forceful, or at this lake, static.


Those salamander, creamystone colour,
it was claimed live for nearly forever,
I saw in a cave, safe under cover,
would not think particularly clever.

But they knew where the pool of water was,
and had sense of their ‘comrades’ around them.
Meandered slowly, not making a fuss.
Did whatever it was mattered to them.

In that dark place without natural light.
But that not matter as completely blind.
Survival maintained without need for sight.
Things right, though, to afford a long lifetime.

Nature’s early try with longevity.
Earliest land life, and that way still see.


May be regarded as apocryphal,
what come to remain, a whole sepulchre.
Thought possible that here susceptible
to the processes of Andromeda.

That’s the solar system beyond our one.
New thinking is, over billions of years,
will eat-up space. Its neighbours will succumb.
By such means, our universe disappears.

Astronomers are saying there are stars,
which look like the residue of planets
from this aggressive expansion afar.
May be true that the Earth gets chewed to bits;

but resembles what man is aware of.
Feed and shit. Conquest. A predator. … God?

Sonnets Politically Motivated.
Sonnets About America.