A Plea for Green
Green are the hills for children:
a sunlit place of grasses,
dandelions and daisies;
as green as an apple, a fig,
an unripe fruit; the green
of memory and melody,
the scrubby bushy slopes
for exploration; tall trees
to climb, parks to run through.
Screens are not green
or sunlit; the blue wild
winds do not blow there –
a static buzz bends
the mind in dark rooms.
This is my plea for green.
Jaz Stutley
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22