Our scorched earth erupts into belligerent flames, <br />Fanned by the wind, they sweep very fast down the plain, <br />They seem to delight, in their playing of these games, <br />When blue skies can deliver no deluge of rain. <br /> <br />Burnt down and blackened, all the tree trunks stand stark, <br />Leaving this wide landscape like an alien place, <br />Smoke billowing, the harsh flames start licking the bark, <br />Like huge hungry tongues that fear forfeiting the race. <br /> <br />Hastening onwards, with a strong wild winning urge, <br />With impetus, flora and fauna devouring, <br />Stripping the land bare, as it starts on its mad surge, <br />This fire, that has come to be so overpowering. <br /> <br />These flames ever feeding, engulf at such a speed, <br />Everything in their wake, is now changed into dust, <br />But from this devastation, each tiny new seed, <br />Will shoot new once again from this earth's ravaged crust. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-alien-place/
