Beauty to Humanity

Sunset at Montmajour by Van Gogh

The sun that you disclose
In the still of boughs and mist
And melodious creeks that flow
Over the stones and earth kissed.

The air with the sky that perch
over your plumage alive,
through tendrils as pristine
That melts hearts' strifes.

Painter’s brush drips and flows
Vincent, Monet, Constable, Cole,
whispering to the world your tones,
For the Beauty that makes us all.

But then they brought swarms
Of plastics as their thoughts,
To throw their foul decay
That your nurture couldn’t fought.

Corpses helpless fall on
Unheard of their moan,
By the din of ignorance and greed
Diligent to degrade until gone.