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‘R’ You Saving The World?

globe of the Earth with a supportive hand underneath it
Some of us R trying:
Recyclers, re-users and repairers;
riders of bicycles and rev-ers of electric cars;
reducers of emissions with bio-mass boilers,
roof solar panels, and residents who use them,
really sustainable developers,
       with rainfall harvesters and run-off tanks;
regular givers and those who limit usage of finite resources;
radical learners who know what’s safe, not toxic nor wasteful;
radiant fashionistas in natural fabrics, not man-made rayons;
rich beauties who never use micro-beads in ‘products’;
radgie gadgies who put their newspapers into the blue sulo;
ruddy faced growers of organics who reject chemicals;
reflective designers of biodegradables who create wrappings
    and rubbish that rots rapidly;
religious genetic engineers who’ve worked out the ethics;
researchers who grow food with hydroponics;
readable writers who explain global warming,
    so oRdinaRy people understand;
realistic politicians (The Green Party)
    who plan for the planet not just for now;
revolutionary citizens who vote ecologically,
resourceful pupils in gardening clubs, growing radishes and runners,
retired folk, volunteers in conservation projects, who make compost;
Rwandan game-keepers who care for rhino,
Russian zoo-keepers who breed endangered raptors,
rustic bird lovers who refill seed feeders regularly,
retailers who refuse to sell plastic,
people who use renewables over and over again,
and I refill a reusable glass bottle to rehydrate.

Sue Foster



Photo by Greg Rosenke via Unsplash

Currently Popular Poems:

Lace-like Shadows

Dancing with lace-like shadows of forgotten worlds, the tortoiseshell creeps slowly, the last energies to lie upon the rough bark. With folded wings, Madame butterfly is no more til Spring. Charlotte

Ready to Spring

Like the gnarly springtime bulbs, dormant in the ground Your demons crouch under the skin, waiting to be found Waiting for their moment, to break through and be seen The pale face of snowdrops, in a vibrant sea of green Emmalene Taylor

Yew Remember

Yew remember The flaky times, The broken branches. Yew grew so strong and fast. Yew is not as tough As yew look. Yew exude Attracting berries Yew absorb our gases like thoughts. How’s life within your dangling conscious and pointed needles? Yew nurtured truth yet live in pain. Winter be longer than yew thought. But yew will not be silenced by others. Yew draw A complex pattern. Aching for light But yew can be cool, contented not to sit in the shade beneath others. Yew are alone in this world No more than the oak nor beech. Yew shed a spirited shadow As Yew are a survivor. Anon.

The Rain

Pitter patter falls the rain, on the roof and window pain Softly softly it falls down, Makes a stream that runs around. Penelope

White Hawthorns

The day speaks of white hawthorn Sundays Long washed out road trips, reluctant relatives waving you off on arrival. Rain from decades passed, a swishing of glimpses. Parents cramped and fretful. Passing through a littered accompaniment of faceless outlines. Stretched out warming children, car sick, scrunch up weathered newspapers. Pungent smells of nostalgia, almost Springs bouncing forward hours. Eager sweet wrappers lunge for half opened windows to adorn the floating blossom clouds of hawthorn bushes, March’s winds step in much like a bone-chilled but amiable hitch hiker. A querulous sibling rolls over, sickening, falls out in a screeching of tires. Tearfully rain-splattered. Another weekend pulled out and pegged up, redolent of adolescences quickly traversed. Mark Ereira-Guyer

Forever Searching

Search the walls Scan the corridors Express the highs Scribble the lows Writing explores The state of my mind.   Judith  

Who Is Saving The World?

The recycler, bicycler, bio-masser and solar paneller, the sustainable developer, the charity worker, the medics (sans frontieres?), fundraisers and carers, givers and listeners, growers of organics, designers of biodegradables. Genetic engineers? Surgeons and researchers, forgivers and forgetters, Billy the bug hunter, Immy the mathematician, Troy the paratriathelete, Wendy the wigwam maker. The ones who go last, the ones who smile, the ones who don’t want to argue about it, the ones who give up their seat, the ones who calm a storm, the ones who cook up a feast, the ones who sing praises, the ones who shine, Auntie Gwen and Malala…… ….and I drink water from a glass bottle. Sue Foster Image by Fernando via Unsplash .

Acronyms

PTSD PPE BA 2.75.2 Ratios, numbers, percentages “look after yourself…” they said. We were all Marcel Marceau feeling the invisible walls closing in. I was lucky, I could get out for 30 minutes Music in the car on the way home from the crem., to those invisible walls carrying the grief of the world on my shoulders and forever in my heart. Ratios, numbers, percentages “look after yourself… Suzanne

Twisted Love

Twisted trunk and milky stream, A glacial meltwater on serpent skin. Whirling optimistic messengers, Coherent and flowing, Yet random and broken Waiting to be spoken. Snake bark maple, And milky stream, Twisted love and shattered dreams. Anon .    

Feathers

It’s as if all the birds In every weather Had dropped every feather The weight sometimes Of all those why's A ton of lead Or a ton of words unsaid Down on a feathered bed The weight belies The width of squawks When the birds are dead And they sing remembering When a ton of song Weighed the same as Fly away Autumns Flu away fall Feather or not Bird at all. Stephen Kirin