The sky has fallen

Apologies to those who have arrived at this post expecting some reference to James Bond. The piece below actually came out of a 10 minute warm-up writing exercise. It was quite a lot of fun, so I thought, why not share it here? As you will see, the poem riffs off the tale of Chicken Little (or Henny Penny as some of you may know it). You can check it out on English Fairy Tales on Project Gutenberg. That collection was brought together by Joseph Jacobs, an Australian born scholar and historian.

Sun is shining, day is bright

Onto the path she does alight

A ‘morning’ here, ‘good morning’ there

She waddles proud without a care

Alas, her peace is interrupted

It seems the sky has been corrupted

Onto her head a piece has fallen

To the King she must go a callin’

‘Where do you go?’, fellow travellers ask

She tells them her important task

‘To see the King I have to go

For the sky has fallen so’

And so they join her in her plight

To tell the king what they know is right—

The sky we all once knew so well

Has now become a place like Hell

Where gasses gather, temperatures rise

The cause of which we must surmise

Is us, the ones who live beneath it

With disregard we choose to treat it

And soon we’ll pay a heavy price

For lives of gorge and waste and vice

And in this darkest time of need

When we have to pay for all our greed

We must recall that little chick

Who understood that the world was sick

She had the courage to stand up tall

And speak for those with no voice at all.

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