Over The Horizon There Poem by Kevin Hulme

There's a War playing over the Horizon there
And families are fleeing once more,
The age-old script of survival or death
With the brutal swift boot that will shatter a door;
But where I lie I hear the breakers roll,
To sweep the gold sand of the Somnolent shore.
Just over the Earth's green sylvan edge
Where the Sky melts one with the land,
Are Riots and Showers of glistening glass
The throaty yell of insistent demands,
With a burning flow of Humanity's Mass;
Here where I sit the Nightingale lulls the fading Hours
With the sinking Sun like Molten Brass.
Beyond the distant darkening brow
There's famine that blights the dry soil,
The Mothers cry forms that with their young
Under the straining Yoke of their cowering toil;
And here the warm hand of the Evening breeze
Makes fine the Twilight, it's richest foil.
How strange it is as I view this Peace
The day now settling to rest,
That here is quiet and Heaven's balm,
A scene so draped in Tranquil dress.
Oh if every Soul could have such calm,
Those Nations in foul distress.