She is not ready for your tomb

Of rancid waste, of filth and doom

There is much life in Mother Earth

A wealth of riches, home and hearth.

Gestation beats within her womb

Azalea, daisies stretching bloom

Her blossoms delicate perfume

The lady presses sun and mirth

She is not ready for your tomb.

Her skillful weaving, fruit from loom

Touch wheat fields of her sweeping broom

Where golden ores are forging birth

With gemstones rich, she’ll find her worth

In treasures more than you’d assume

She is not ready for your tomb.

**NOTE:  This poem was inspired by John W. Leys  and his use of experimental poetry forms. The Rondeau was first used in thirteenth-century France, popular among medieval court poets and musicians. Because it is named for the French word ’round’ I could not resist using it as a tribute to Earth.  Read more about the Rondeau