Save Our Common Mountain Environment

As we gaze from Pumlumon on clear, crystal day,
The Glories of Cambria, we all can survey;
To the ramparts of Gwynedd and the Beacons of Brecon,
To the soft hills of Maldwyn and sea we can beckon
From the flanks of this mountain at the green heart of Wales
Are sent forth its great rivers, to nourish its Vales.

From here flow the mighty Severn and Wye
On separate journeys, before meeting to die,
From here, not one city comes into view
Just farmsteads and hamlets; even towns are but few.

The glories of nature from here can be seen,
Not buried in concrete, under streets cracked and mean,
Here is the refuge of buzzard and kite,
Where urban man flees, to join them in flight.
Landscapes like these, so rare and so grand
Will in future, be priceless in this crowded land.

Yet, what are appearing on those hills all around?
What alien protrusions seem to spring from the ground?
Like glistening white giants, arms madly flailing,
Furiously working - yet, in truth, badly failing!
Catching the wind to make heat and light,
Yet producing so little, compared to their might.

"They are the future!" their supporters contend,
But looks can deceive - they only pretend!!
Wind turbines placed on each elevation,
Will not even close one power station.

To compare them to nuclear must be a joke,
It's seven thousand for one, if truth is spoke.
Who are these supporters attempting to fool?
Those that believe them should go back to school!
Lighting the smallest of towns in this nation,
Is nothing to powering even one conurbation!
And what of those days, either calm or of gales?
No heating! No telly! No light in all Wales!

No advocate mentions the noise and vibration,
Two miles from the turbines - a maddening sensation!
Some people nearby are driven almost insane,
Sheer lack of sleep leaves them ill and in pain,
And there is no escaping the flash of each blade
As, flickering shadows the eyes do pervade!

A serious resistance needs now to be mounted,
The people of Wales must stand and be counted!
For, when the wind doesn't blow, hill top crosses display
The Crucifixion of Cambria is well on its way!