The Silks Of Summer Poem by Robert Powell

Have you walked the untamed land
And swam the virgin sea
Seen where rocks are turned to sand
Breathed air that's truly free?

How far did you travel to that place
Have you longing to return
Who gaurds that beauty and keeps its grace?
Who would gladly see it burn?

Do you think on days of old
The earth that used to be
Could you stand to brave the cold
For land, and liberty?

How many children come and gone,
Before they must forsake,
The land that they are living on
That was never there's to take?

We're clothed in the silks of summer,
Harvested in spring
'Praise our luck' will cry the drummer,
While eating everything.

And thus we quickly scorned the spring
It's nature was too frail
We made the crown and called us king
Too powerful to fail.
The Silks of Summer are not unending
This, we do well teach
Still they're grabbing, clawing, rending
All within their reach.

There are no more discrete escapes
The globe has grown quite small
We must dethrone our kingly apes
Before we lose it all.