Dear Town- and City-Planning gents,
We think you ought to know,
That you have contravened our rights and we’ve nowhere to go.
We’ve long been silent, it is true, but now we must assert,
We’re tired of tarmac and cement and grovelling in the dirt.
Your architects must all be mad – indeed we’ve heard it said
They’ve done away with Nature’s laws and made their own instead.
They have no sense of beauty and we bewail their taste.
Their sullen stacks of sterile bricks are monuments to haste.
Their thoughts set down in concrete are abstract gone berserk;
No creature that is sane and sound could find joy in their work.
Our hearts are filled with pity to see their dismal domes,
To us their blocks of granite shocks are fitting tombs, not homes.
We’ve done much better, all along, but in a quieter way.
Our age-old methods are admired – that’s what we wrote to say.
We do not brag about our work; our blueprints can’t be scanned.
With structures based on harmony we beautify the land.
Our residents would all confirm – if given half a chance –
Our high-rise dwellings are the best in low-cost elegance.
Variety is there, you see; the eye is not attacked
By harsh right angles, tedious towers and stones so sternly stacked.
It seems you’ve got your values wrong, you Town- and City-Planners.
We claim the right to demonstrate and brandish our green banners.
Our Company is sorely pressed, yet has no hesitation
In stating that it will not yield to threats of liquidation.
The world is on our side, you know, and that you can’t gainsay;
One day your work will turn to dust; your blueprints fade away.
And when that happens, quietly we’ll surface, as we please,
And with our friends we’ll build again.

Yours faithfully,
The Trees.