I wandered lonely as a bee

With thanks to Mr Wordsworth:

I wandered lonely as a bee

That dips through meadows lush and still,

When all at once – what’s this I see?

– A host of gleaming fracking drills!

The lake’s been pumped, the locals flushed.

Trees shake and tremble in the dust.

Relentless as the desert heat

That sears all life from sand-swept plains,

The juggernauts grind through in fleets

Along the narrow country lanes.

Ten thousand feet the drills bore down

Bee-lining their way beneath the town.

The homes above them quake but that’s

A minor care when streams run dry,

When methane’s leaking from the taps

And toxic clouds swirl in the sky.

I gasped and gasped, to no avail –

Clean air’s worth less than gas from shale.

And oft I dream we all object

To short term focus by the fools

Who care not if the earth is wrecked

By big-buck raids for fossil fuels.

Rays warm, winds rage, waves rush and still

They dance in with their fracking drill.

c. The Bridport Ranter.