Okra

Okra

A Poem by Kenneth Nicholas Lowe

When all the world is sleeping,

When all the trees are growing brown

When animals are no more creeping

From around and about their grounds

 

When all the air is poison

When all the waters are running black

And the soil won't hear our reason

And money can't buy it back!!!

© 2015 Kenneth Nicholas Lowe


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

116 Views
Added on June 24, 2015
Last Updated on June 25, 2015
Tags: friends, farmers, urban, earth, nature, soil

Author

Kenneth Nicholas Lowe
Kenneth Nicholas Lowe

Melbourne, Victoria, Australia



About
Born to the Human Race, I live in the land of India for the time being with a major ancestral inclinations to the Anglican and Celtic anthropological denominations. With that being said, My day job.. more..

Writing