A poem for our time...

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Save Our Rustlings Trees

The trees of Rustlings

They stand so tall

Green in the summer

Gold in the fall

White in the winter

They soothe my soul

My friends since childhood

They’ve always been there

But eleven must go

To my great despair

The roots cause a hazard (or so I’ve heard tell)

So these lovely trees are up for the fell

I’m somewhat perplexed at this piece of talk;

I’m seventy, disabled and it’s my favourite walk!

So, council please pause, before you slay

I’m sure plenty have told you there’s another way

And are the roots really as bad as you say?

By a Concerned Tree Lover

Sheffield 11