Death Of The Trees

My town is a place where The rich tourists come, With mountains and rivers That glint in the sun! Luxuriant beaches Of ivory sand, But all the jade forests Now no longer stand! There once were lush jungles That grew dense and tall, But woodcutters came when The town was still small... They hacked all the trees down And shipped them away, In huge merchant vessels That sailed to the bay! They went back to Europe With precious hard woods, Sold it as furniture And other fine goods... I wish I could travel In time to the day Before people cleared all The forests away! I wish I had seen them Before settlers came, The mountains and rivers May still be the same... Iron, Yellow, Black Wood And most of all trees, Don't sway any more in The fresh coastal breeze... This poetry is an adapted poem for Lisa La Grange, her copyright,2012.