The cult of human power has in thrall
Your humble sonneteer, as you well know
Who read this blog. So nobody should call
Suprise the news that she doth choose to mow
The grass and weeds that fill and choke her yard
With something she must push herself. She feels
Most virtuous; no fossil fuels, just hard
And sweaty work from her own body, wheels
And whirring blades accomplish what she must
To keep her neighbors friendly. Thus the sun,
Provides her all the power needed, just
As it could do for most of us if one
Of these plans could be worked up, put in place.
To hell with oil; our future's up in space!