The wind on the sea
bore a strange melody
of an island that sings
out to the water.
Perched upon a headland,
overlooking the waves,
hidden under a blanket of cloud,
sits ancient stone on new ground.
A ray of light pierces
the shattered windows,
with dust dancing wildly
in and out of the shadows.
The raw, cold stone wears its past
of courtyards grown quiet,
silently weeping,
drenched in loneliness.
Over majestic peaks,
with rushing rivers, shimmering streams,
forever embedded, this faded place,
in earth’s timely embrace.
Nature’s masterpiece,
swallows up the desolate walls,
that once stood tall,
now withered away.
Stories hidden beneath bare rock,
as misty ocean spray,
crashes over them,
slowly washing them away.
As the days are chased by night,
a perfect stillness,
of sheer beauty,
forever whispers her sweet song.
GRACE WILLMORE
Collinswood, SA
