Jan Hansen Poet Blank verse

inland Algarve

The Inland Algarve

The landscape is so oddly shaped.
Had once been a domestic landscape, 
where the scent of wild herbs and the whisper
 The wind through olive branches told stories of past lives,
Walking along a narrow cartwheel
Tracks I often come across the remnant
Of dwellings that once had housed
Poverty-stricken people who had
Ploughed small and reluctant fields
Olive trees had grown wild and tall
Bearing bitter fruit.
Some walls had no purpose, sinking.
Back to earth, becoming rocks again.
A haunted landscape in the inland Algarve,
 a region rich with a history of Moorish influence
 and traditional farming,
Algarve, and no one saw it doomed
Beauty.
Rabbits and boars peacefully roam, embodying 
the natural serenity that still whispers through the land.
And sheep grazed in the gloaming.
Stillness, yet I sensed voices that once
Had loved and lived struggling
Against poverty and early death.

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