I sometimes grumble when the trees
    Let down their leaves and flowers,
For in my garden, ‘neath these trees,
    I work for hours and hours.

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I sweep the leaves, I plant the bulbs,
    I mow the lawn and then,
The weeks go by or just the hours
     And it’s there to do again.

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But, underneath these lovely trees,
     I breathe in God’s fresh air.
I hear the blackbird and the thrush,
    Who sing without a care.

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The sun shines down and warms the soil.
    The rain brings life and growth
And we are glad, of course we are,
     That we have much of both.

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But, in the cities of our world,
     Man’s mark is clearly seen,
For, in this urban jungle-land,
    Is yet another scene -

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For towering skyward, cheek by jowl,
     The man-made buildings rise,
And pollution from the city streets
     Is thrown into the skies.

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This unseen killer roams around,
    Attacking old and young.
It sheds not leaves or nature’s flowers,
   But seeks your human lung.

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I’ll quickly leave these city streets;
    Goodbye polluted air,
And in my garden, far from here,
     I’ll work without a care.

Copyright on all my poems

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