The Rye Smile, Kent - Poem by Allison Riches
The Rye Smile………….
Romance springs from the passionate surroundings;
Forests and sea combine their whispers;
Mocking, though eternal repetitious reinvention,
Raw Sussex power created, then dispersed.
Take One’s life’s crisis and look to the sea;
The waves are relentless, governed by the moon.
Stare long and hard, and feel the energy
Aware that your troubles will be dwarfed very soon.
Ride naked through the woods and forests, feeling free;
Flickering sun through branches whilst passing;
Uncertain of the ground underfoot and above,
But embracing rebellion of nature, everlasting.
Hardy encompassed love through pain,
His life’s journey’s, in my view.
His passionate descriptions of a County like my own,
The forests, the cliffs, the sea in which I grew.
To start ones epic adventure in life
Is usually when it has ended.
To journey through pain and challenge
Moulds the person who once pretended.
Rolling seas, those thunderous waves
Relentless power and strength;
They’ll never cease, constantly rolling
The moon governs the depth and length.
Man is a tiny being
With problems unsurmountable;
Yet, sit man on the shoreline at night
And his won’t even be accountable.
Sussex is a beautiful county
Woods, sea and spaces;
The land is big and powerful,
The people clearly racist.
Not one person of darker persuasion;
Is given more than a stall in the market.
Those that are seen as ethnic or Asian
Remain visitors, always separate.
The irony of a village such as Rye,
Are the visitors who choose to remain,
Eventually learning to turn a blind eye
To those politically insane.
The County of Sussex reminds me of Sicily;
Both have land and sea laden with fruit.
Both unaccountable, financially and politically;
Notorious for being corrupt.
Despite the similarities in many ways
There remains a moral divide.
As long as the government remain corrupt,
The Police will continue to hide.
The Police and the ministers have the power to squeeze
The essence of life from minority thinkers.
Using tax payers money – unquantified fees,
Forcing any mind or wit into blinkers.
It’s Local Government who directly gain
From entrepreneurs and creators.
The Councils can only collect their money
By claiming to maintain their welfare claimers.
So One must look toward religion, the Catholics,
The Politicians of the Med.
They collect their ritual taxes,
But extended families the real laws unsaid.
The missing link is all too familiar,
Roaming our green and pleasant land;
The Catholic and religious way of being
Is a lesson to learn, not freedom banned.
Comments about The Rye Smile, Kent by Allison Riches
Edgar Allan Poe
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.