So now the aerodrome goes up <br />Upon my father's fields, <br />And gone is all the golden crop <br />And all the pleasant yields. <br /> <br />They tear the trees up, branch and root, <br />They kill the hedges green, <br />As though some force, malign and brute, <br />Ravaged the peace serene. <br /> <br />There where he used to sit and gaze <br />With blue and quiet eyes, <br />Watching his comely cattle graze, <br />The walls begin to rise. <br /> <br />What place for robin or for wren, <br />For thrush and blackbird's call? <br />Now there shall be but flying men <br />Nor any bird at all. <br /> <br />'Twas well he did not stay to know, <br />Defaced and all defiled <br />The quiet fields of long ago, <br />Dear to him as a child. <br /> <br />But when the tale was told to me <br />I felt such piercing pain, <br />They tore my heart up with the tree <br />That will not leaf again.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-aerodrome/
