Fay Slimm.

ILL-SENT.

 

 

Ill-Sent.

 

Granite protection tries its stone-utmost
to stave away land-slides along our coast.

 

Take an ocean of rimless diversity
where scrolls of dread power build reign
of threat to explode with ill-sent fury.


Take the intent of human endeavour
to stay the worst moves of saline invasion
gale-bent on claiming unfettered misrule.

 

Try to imagine weary male shoulders
defiant with bulge of work-hardened veins
attempting to bolster diverted disaster.

 
Try to conceive how when tragedy\'s brink
floats nearer and fields sink mud-locked
in watery vortex hopes too can crash.

 

Unhookably fierce the teeth of sea-storms
that brook no relief until wind speed alters.