Mother nature

Nature is the gentlest mother.

Her trees decline to alleviate our peeved city

Rather, they suspend elsewhere considering their fatigue tensity

Her equitable conversations, her commiserative heart

Mother had settled fertile soils along the forest trees

The city, now composed as for nature's admirable degrees.

Her river, it displeases to extract the repellant plastic

The odious water flows, depicted as exotic

‘It’s nothing,’ she articulates

Mother had inquired my sister, the winds

Relocating the obscene plastics elsewhere, it thoroughly prescinds.

Her bluebells fail to symbolise gratitude

Alternatively, their fragile skin tear, repellant bugs intrude

Luckily, mother nature had observed 

She’d modified their habitat to partial shades

Now, the bluebells can’t be torn, not even a blade.