Alone; on a desk, stands a tall clouded glass, With water filled up to the brim, No coaster is used and the wood is scarred from Condensation that beads near the rim. At the top of the glass, bobs a trio of cubes, Their function is keeping it cool But with this and with that, little things adding up Cause the heat to rise out of control As the temperatures rise, then the ice starts to melt , So more liquid pours into the glass Which can no longer hold such extensive amounts, And its volume the waters surpass. Unprepared for the flood, all the things on the desk; Whose existence did add to the heat. Are now ruined with wet, and are racked with regret, That their ignorance was their defeat Was there something perhaps, that they ought to have done To prevent their disastrous fate, If they listened, and learned, and took note of their plight They'd have acted before it's too late.
My contribution to #PoemsAbout #Melt
@alanparrywriter.co.uk
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
The Glass
I think this was the first non sonnet poem that I ever wrote.
#poetry #blueskypoet #poem #evironment #climateChange #Climate
