UNCOVERED.
Iron-cold stones
stride atop a sparkling sea across
from a wild-wood
and come to a stop where the tree
outcrop ceases
and naught but the wind resides.
Quieter than things
alive is granite in half-walled ruins
that demonstrates
age-old silence on plight of keepers'
trying to shepherd
with rockhard tough will to survive.
Olden-day workers
built around cliff-top homesteads
of rock-cottage strength
meant to hedge sheep but fallen
now to ferny sheets
beweeded by mossy eons of years
Insides akimbo
meant stones had rolled into fields
where streams now hide
one-time house boulders as proof
of failed labour bent
on success, still dressed as in life.
Small every holding
rotted in weathered mould leaves
searchers like me
yearning to find out more about all
those given to hope
of a cliff-top shepherding industry.
Slipped away to death's
soul-flight their schemes still rise
from moorland mound's
uncovered token-find surprises
as fight's remains turn
slowly into finality's stony debris
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: April 23rd, 2018 04:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 42
- Users favorite of this poem: Lorna, Accidental Poet
Offline)
Comments5
How magical your poem and the old stones and the mysteries they hold. You have so much history "for free" - it must be spiritual to come across these lonely places of the past (without crowds of tourists pushing in lines)........
Thank you and yes Lorna it is such a gift to live near the places where history here was made and which sometimes succeeded and at other times failed. Those relics have much to tell if only we could read their messages left in walls rocks and stones.So pleased you enjoyed the read my friend.
A fine write Fay.
Many thanks for the visit and comment dear Orchi.
Relics of past eons bring thoughts of compassion for the souls who lived in those long forgotten days. But not all is forgotten, as some of us long to know the lives of those who lived before us. Great write Fay. Very intriguing.
Ah - you are on the same wavelength dear friend - - these working folk laboured so hard to make crusts of bread and deserve our compassion. Thank you so much for picking up on the poem's message.
Your wonderful language takes us on a great journey - thanks Fay.
Yes dear Michael a journey into the past never harmed our sense of compassion for those who lived laboured and died while trying to make the best of whatever they had. Thanks so much for the visit and read.
THANKS FAY ~ For a very descriptive Photo and an elegant Poem ! Thoughts on a discussion on discovering a stone terrace built to surround homesteads and fence in sheep ! Even the homesteads have now disintegrated. We search and mentally build such sites to give us an insight into "A cliff-top Shepherding Industry !" In 500 years perhaps archaeologists will search the remains of our homes for clues. A very emotive poem ~ thanks for sharing ~ Yours as always BRIAN
Your comments are ever a source of encouragement dear Brian and your thoughts on this subject are valued my friend. Yes indeed those out to try cliff-top shepherding deserve our compassion and though now derelict their cottages still give off a sense of success in the very attempt.
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