The years gnaw away at the coastal fringe
Some cling, ringed and wretched, then fall
Others girth fear, then backwards they lurch
With their progeny, facing the wall

Was that guardian of time banal,
Right in predicting that all
Would succumb to the legacy given
And bequeath the pall darkened sea?

Boiling below, and biding its time
For those unborn migrants
Scrambling for land
Never free

Who dealt us this hand?
Did we foreshadow it?
Building bright spires
Lighting signal fires

The silence of the night broken
by a joyous Christmas carol
and the sound of santas' bells ,
bringing cheer to the world.
In the warm Christian houses
families gather,bearing gifts.
The air filled with joyful laughter,
beautiful moments are conceived

Outside an old man walks alone,
peering at their christmas trees,
wishing that he had a home.
The cold winter chills his poor bones
he heads to a nearby shelter
where others like him seek refuge
from the unforgiving weather.

you are sunlight on ice.
the cold slowly melts away from me
and warmth is all that's left

you are blue sky
through charred and blackened clouds
despite thick layers of pollution you are brilliant.

The trees are (turning) into leaf
Like (words) almost being said
The recent buds (grow) and spread
Their greenness is a kind of grief

Is it that they are (young) again
And we (growing) old? No, they (aged) too
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain

Yet still the unresting (wild) thresh
In fullgrown (on) every May
Last year (sweet) (dreams) they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, (afresh)