Green blades stand in serried ranks,
Waiting for the sun,
A million meals in this field alone -
Yet bird and bee find none.
One solitary flash of red,An accidental growth,
One lonely flower not erased,
Was there not room for both?
Along the edge there’s only death,The margin lost for profit,
No shelter for the leveret,
No fat hen for the linnet.
Man can exist and share this earth,Without such barren choice,
A field of green and red combined,
Lets nature keep her voice.
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