Hear Alison Arkell read her poem ‘Suncream in December’ here:
Suncream in December
I want that my kids never need ask why they require suncream in December,
Or why the beach is closed, homes lost to flood, foods grown but not fit for harvest.
I want to be able to look them deep in the eyes and say; “Honestly babies, I tried my best!”
I tried to recycle the piles of unnecessary packaging, suffocating the apples and the freshly cut asparagus.
I tried to shop fair trade, so those souls born less fortunate could be paid a fair wage.
I walked when I could, instead of taking the car,
And bought only lotions and potions not tested on creatures who cared not about our dull hair, dry skin or scuffed knees.
I stopped eating meat, or eggs from featherless birds in tiny prisons, and the milk meant for calves was left for the cows.
Our make do and mend lifestyle was more than just a slogan from the times of my grandparents.
“Waste not, want not” and “everything in moderation”
“Actions speak louder than words” the wisest of all words it turns out.
I hope all these things have been noted and ingested by these two small, open souls.
Absorbed by osmosis in the daily grind: school, eat, sleep, wake, repeat.
Make sure you recycle, don’t eat so much meat!
Armed with this all, I entrust to them the world, to be better custodians than those we remember,
And trust that in their guardianship, they will never need suncream in December.
Alison Arkell works at the Institute for Environmental Analytics, based at the University of Reading. A mother of two who is happiest at her allotment or by the sea, a secret poet with a life-long passion for writing and our planet.