The Wild Coast Poem by Gert Strydom

(after W.B. Yeats)

I will take my things and go,
go to the wild coast
and there buy a small piece of un-ravished land
where wild birds still sing

that is still at nature's prime,
and it will be right against the sea
and there I will wash all of the city grime away.

It might be at the beginning of spring,
or any season will really do
and it will only be you and me.

We will build a little holiday-house
with a tiny track leading to it,
maybe a cottage
where we could manage a life of our own,
or a bigger house might suit you,
where as my spouse
you will have a studio of your own
where the outside pressure will cease
and peace and serenity will come to us.

We will walk for miles on the beach,
will be out of reach to everyone,
but a couple of close friends,
we will be sheltered against the fiends
that life had brought on our way
and there we will stay
and work and play till the end of our days.

[Reference: "The lake isle of Innisfree" by W.B. Yeats.]