Lost World
Scrambling up the wide polar brow,
Lonesome cub waded in thin snow.
Lush flakes gone, it was such a blow.
Usually boisterous tern perched silent as she dwell,
Polar cub peered sorrowful as a deluge of tears fell,
Overwhelmed at the state their precious abode befell.
Ask they; benevolent Lord,
Human dwellers why accord
Messing thy nature’s chord?
Pristine white all lost,
Glacial melts, firns short,
Rills swollen, distort.
Icebergs, nay, ice beds,
Prickly cuddles bred,
Wounded arctic bled.