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recorded reading
From Ancient Greek mythology, the beautiful Dryads hail.
Mysterious, gentle woodland nymphs, their presence did prevail
Over woodland places, forest floors, especially old oak trees.
“Love and protect our woodlands” were their oft repeated pleas.
The Dryads weren’t immortal - like the trees they loved and cared,
Their lives were tied up closely with the trees whose lives they shared.
One day the King of Thessaly thought he’d build a stately hall.
He little cared at all to where the trees were soon to fall.
His men looked round and chanced upon a sacred grove of trees –
“Ah! Just what we’ve been looking for – we’ll fell a few of these.”
“Cut them down” the King told them, with very little thought.
As the axe cut down the oak tree, he heard a tiny voice, distraught.
“Please stop” the voice cried feebly, as they cut the bleeding bark.
“You’re striking at this mighty oak, and also at my heart.”
The mighty oak had stood for long within this sacred wood;
The men just kept on chopping, for the King had said they should.
The self-loving King cared little that the woodland nymph was dead,
The prospects of his handsome hall filled up his mind instead.
He little knew that Mother Earth, great goddess of the grain,
Had been told the tree had fallen and the little Dryad slain.
She said: “I’ll make him suffer - he’ll pay dearly for this deed!
As he likes so much the selfish life, let him feed and feed and feed!
He couldn’t stop his hunger, no matter what he tried –
He became so fat he couldn’t move, and then, of course, he died.
Self-centred folk on earth should always look before they leap.
Good Mother Earth’s just resting – no, she’s not in bed asleep!
“Please don’t destroy your lovely world” is her excellent advice –
For if you do, this time for sure, you all will pay the price.”
copyright 2006