Casteddu Sardinia Poem by Kathryn Brookes

Ageless stronghold with medieval walls,
beneath which villa nova idly sprawls;
here where past and present merge as one
under the radiant halo of a golden sun,
nut brown children spend carefree hours
in narrow streets, mid ancient Pisan towers.

Cool dark streets, illuminated by shafts of light
open on warm chequered squares of black and white.
From windows, cast in shade, peering eyes are met
as half-glimpsed figures form their silhouette.
Here through darkling doorways, almost concealed,
flower filled courtyards are fleetingly revealed.

The noiseless step of time passes by unheard
leaving only a breath of wind, gently stirred
amidst washing, billowing like painted sails;
whilst overall an enchanted peace prevails.
Out on azure water a dancing light gleams,
luring fishermen to gentle noonday dreams.

This cities magic catches the eager wandering eye,
from lofty cathedral, outlined against cloudless sky,
on over the reeling dropp of San Remy, to Marina below;
past silent stagni, reflecting a sun's fiery glow.
To the devil's saddle towering over golfo degli Angelli
faithfully watched by the sette frattelli.

Spread before me from Buoncammino can be seen
the Campidano patchwork fields of gold and green.
Nearby Tuvixeddu, veiled in her hushed mystery,
shares the splendour of this ancient history.
This city is no fading dream or passing shadow,
but alive with a vibrant race I'm proud to know.