Wordsworth revisited
To the anti frackers
#30
The clouds hung lowly like a shroud
That covers fracking in the shale
When all at once my eyes beheld
The posts of eerie tall turbines
Beside the lake, instead of trees
Rotating slowly in the breeze
Continuous like lights that line
The endless Tarmac motorways
They turn in never ending whine
Along the edges of decay
A thousand I saw as I glanced
Bladed, churning grey expanse
The waves beside them rolled,
And they
Ground on and waved back mournfully
I felt cold, and soulless grey
In such a sterile company
I raged and raged with angry thought
Poor health to them this mess had brought:
For oft they lie upon their couch
In trances from the network flood
Projecting on the inward eye
Company in solitude.
Distracting you from heavy drills
And tankers queuing to refill.
