'Rust To Dust' - Poem by Fay Slimm
Clocking time idly, cargo boats lie open
To sky, emptied and hungry, their restocked
Trade held in containers, secured and roped.
Standing amazed I watched them stowed and locked
Before I moved on. These old docks, manned long
By Cornish toil, musty now, looked supreme
In retrospect. Winter sun highlights rungs
On ladder rising from the sea, tells me
That the tide is on the ebb. I must leave
A scene of modern rust, and trudge my way
To ancient dust. Pendennis Castle weaves
It's spell in style. Long lists record past affrays
With foreigners who dared to land ashore.
What's more King Henry had a second skin
Built into Castle Tower, and such gory
Battles were once fought hand to hand within
It's ramparts. Now dusty noise is canned.
Artificial guns roar hourly, - - - heard
By gasping public, who startled, jump and
Coyly grin. The granite utters not a word.
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