Does it matter does it not
If the reason for life
We have forgot
Perhaps we were never ever told
...
What happens is not good or bad
What happens is not always sad
What happens is the way it is
What happens is a great abyss
...
The sea was made of lemonade
The beach from chocolate drops
The cliffs were made of toffee
The trees from Brighton rock
...
Blocks of Cornish granite stone
Exposed
Face brave the west wind’s home
To test the storm
...
Each wave
Of the sea
That falls
On the shore
...
Crisp green the stems of daffodils
That brave in spring cold sun
Soft tender green the hawthorn buds
Unfurled with winter done
...
Our weapons
To defeat the scythe of time
That through Earth
Eternalise our places
...
So strong doth blow
November's wind
From trees
Their leaves
...
We choose the place
We go from here
Through what to us
Is held as dear
...