Wolf and the Owl
Poetry, Lyrics, Translations
and Musings by Alex Etchart

Secret Village

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

Surreal little shangrila in a distant suburban ghetto
Sacred triangle between train tracks, tarmac and sewage flow
Hear cars, planes, trains’ constant hum driving by
All going somewhere not knowing why?

But in this refugee reality on a bright sunny day
One might spy a rogue faerie a-coming out to play
Do not be alarmed if its appearance is grimy and black
So many years of being forgotten now theres no going back

One by one like fireflies they emerge from their homes
Of sticks bound in bundles and moss covered domes
Composting culture where the babylon deceived them
They dance round the campfire of their gypsy garden of eden

The byproducts of radioactive waste and colonial pillage
Have allowed these magical creatures to grow a secret village
A haven for the disillusioned to heal, grow and clean
But ignore me, I’m sure it must’ve been a dream…

Posted in: Ecoliving, Poems

Blog owner, singing/strumming person, word speaker, community arts make-happen-er, eco-baby.

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