The winds of change are blowing

Across the stones of time;

With the winding river flowing,

To the sea.


Hawthorne marching to the hill,

Bordering fallow fields;

And Gulls soar on wings held still,

Above the sea.


Gloomy winter’s pall, shadow of decay,

But life awaits in ambush;

For the bright and lengthening day,

O’er land and sea.


Horizon’s defined and lasting line,

In twilight, day and night;

A Mariner’s guide; an eternal sign,

Across the sea.


In substance we do not stand alone,

Past, present and future blend;

Carried on the wind, in air and stone,

Edged by the sea.


The times of youth are not remote;

Uncertainty; a searching mind;

Before life’s ship set sail to float,

Upon the sea.


All things we learn and must face,

Come and go within our span;

But we’ll maintain this sacred place,

Beside the sea.


Monty Alexander  31.12.02

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