Posts tagged ‘ages’


The Lemon Trees by the Spring


Down by the spring the lemon trees

Had grown and died and grown again

Since well before the town was built,

And no-one knew their real age.


Each year the sparrows filled the trees

With squabbling hoards of hungry mouths.

They fed and roosted, fought and bred,

And no-one thought how long they had.


Between the trees the old man worked.

He watered courgettes, melons, beans.

He flicked the flowers clean of flies,

Just like the old men had before.


The lemon trees stood by the spring,

And no-one heard the flowers fall.


Four Ages of the Minotaur


Around the corner deep within,

Where rocks and flames are drawn to life,

With flint and bone the beast was raised.

In words and fear its lust was craved.


In metal times its cave was shame.

Above its world the shields and swords

Could glint and glitter in the sun.

Down there its monstrous form was shunned.


Below the glories forged from trade

Its pit became a lead-mill floor.

The monster’s greed stretched out for more:

More lead, more coal, more steam, more blood.


And now beneath our nothing age

Its abstract grip grows stronger still.