How It Will Be... Poem by David Lewis Paget

The beach, it circles round to the Cape
As a frame to a Prussian blue seascape,
While cliffs arch up to a vaulting sky
To claw at the clouds just passing by;
But nobody heeds them now, nor I.

The sea, it grumbles or lies sublime
Content in its deeps, or marking time,
Then storms its breakers onto the beach
In search of the mountains, out of reach;
With nothing to learn, and none to teach.

The sky, it hovers and looking down
Hangs over the earth, both green and brown
Where nature, in its fecundity
Runs wild and free from the sky and sea;
And unattended by God, or me.

While cottages lie like a pile of bones
Or an ancient monster’s stepping stones,
And none of them cared where man came from
Nor where he went while the sun still shone;
Once they were here, but now they’re gone!

27 December 2013