The Touch "small tweaks", A Sonnet Options

[Larry]

The Touch

Their soundless screams reverberate with grief
that pierces hearts for all the centuries
of fading life. While scions, stem and leaf,
lie crushed beneath their ancient weight. No breeze

shall herald new beginnings in the spring
or sculpt the emerald crowns upon each head.
Strong bastions from the storms that summer brings
are laid in waste. Small denizens have fled

their home and larder, solace now denied
by death. No songs will greet the morn’ to surge
in airy heights, where once the swallow plied.
A mournful sound, as though a quiet dirge

now permeates this devastated glade
created from the touch of soulless blade.


L10 did begin with "to all".

L9 did read: by death. No songs to greet the morn’ converge

[Guest_ohsteve_*]

Larry, as always I am still a fan of your beautiful writing. Again I am wowed, the content as well as form throw a light onto such harsh things as deforestation. I am not sure I could have stood and watched such a thing as they call clear cutting, it would break my heart. I have a huge Maple out in back of my house that I wish more could see, I can sit for hours looking at it and all the faces within its branches and on its trunk, the ents would envy me. A wonderous poem Larry even if sad.

Take Care
Steve