Environmental Poetry Quotes
Quotes tagged as "environmental-poetry"
Showing 1-4 of 4
“I do not want to live
in a world without butterflies.
A place where they only exist
in oil on canvas or silver trinkets on a chain,
in language, legends we pass to the next
generation of memory-keepers,
a place where tiny ghosts have painted wings.”
― organic
in a world without butterflies.
A place where they only exist
in oil on canvas or silver trinkets on a chain,
in language, legends we pass to the next
generation of memory-keepers,
a place where tiny ghosts have painted wings.”
― organic
“I do not want to live
in a world without butterflies.
Without the intricate eyes and velvety wings,
graceful splashes of color dancing on the breeze.
Airy, delicate keepers of hope.
Metamorphic symbols of change, growth, maturation.
... I do not want this world
without the butterflies.
I could not bear the wailing
of flowers.
--from 'A World Without Butterflies' (a poem)”
― organic
in a world without butterflies.
Without the intricate eyes and velvety wings,
graceful splashes of color dancing on the breeze.
Airy, delicate keepers of hope.
Metamorphic symbols of change, growth, maturation.
... I do not want this world
without the butterflies.
I could not bear the wailing
of flowers.
--from 'A World Without Butterflies' (a poem)”
― organic
“Midnight's Toll by Stewart Stafford
As the lungs of our world burn,
SS Nero crashes on plastic rocks,
Kamikaze Captain Mann at the helm,
Safety is beyond our salvation.
As a loved one cruelly disfigured,
By a crazed passerby in the street,
The house we once loved as life,
Now a distant, renovated stranger.
Midnight's toll becomes due,
The malicious piper paid in full,
Only desolation, bones and dust,
Our necropolis legacy to the future.
© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
―
As the lungs of our world burn,
SS Nero crashes on plastic rocks,
Kamikaze Captain Mann at the helm,
Safety is beyond our salvation.
As a loved one cruelly disfigured,
By a crazed passerby in the street,
The house we once loved as life,
Now a distant, renovated stranger.
Midnight's toll becomes due,
The malicious piper paid in full,
Only desolation, bones and dust,
Our necropolis legacy to the future.
© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
―
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