Too Late?

The joys of spring are late in coming round
As snowflakes scatter softly on the ground
For winter’s winds are holding back the light
And earth must wait to feel the warming sun
Despite the ever short’ning hours of night
The essence of spring seems lost amid ice
And voices moan about the cold and rain
As if nature’s ways are a cruel device
Or at their gods for delivering pain.
But truth lies closer within human sight
For in mankind answers are clearly found
‘Tis human greed and the earth pays the price
While all we cared about was personal gain
Is it too late? Can our wrongs be undone?


©JG Farmer 2013
Form: Ivorian Sonnet XXVIII

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