Kinta Valley

THE KINTA VALLEY OR : Dreams of the Sleeping Man (Anthropomorphic name of a mountain profile viewed from The Valley) The sleeping man dreams on in calm detachment While in valley below activity's frenetic, prolific Such motion mere noise in history's grand enactment No matter to one who's recall predates Palaeolithic In his dream that for others is substance of reality The Kinta river formed and enriched the vale Ravines with measureless caverns and jungle tapestry Hid treasure, for millennia an untold tale The ancestors who began the human epic Found a land where they could live in lives unchanging Environment wild but defendable land synergetic While civilisations waxed and wained, world rearranging In that primal forest where life teemed day and night That shared its bounties with creatures of every size Those other primates and tigers burning bright Orang Utan - (jungle man) looked on with placid eyes Then people arrived in human tidal waves From near and far with diverse aims and ideals For some, generous land gave the life-of-ease they craved While chance and challenge drove others in active zeal To Kinta Valley there came a golden age Beneath primary forest floor its treasure revealed Not gold nor silver but tin took centre stage In the race to find what fortunes it would yield Bone white scars blazed deep green jungle with exclamations As the precious ingots were filtered from the soil Realm unchanged for ages was shaped to man's aspirations The dominant being assumed position royal Villages of the broad dale burgeoned into towns With elegant streets and buildings of imperial pride In 'Bougainvillea City' trees and blossoms would abound And bank halls baroque attested to wealth undenied Final days of boom brought self destructive menace Venal rulers and greedy builders in aesthetic infamy Wreaked havoc in many a graceful urban terrace Tasteless vulgar structures damaged the elegant symmetry The dream moved on, tin lost economic sheen The beautiful city of Ipoh reprieved from further outrage Instead slow and graceful decline changed the city's mien Like a comely lady who's reached a certain age And still large fragments remain of the former glory Preserved by the slower rate of so called progress Rapid growth overwhelmed other towns erasing their story Here history is still revealed in loved aspects we bless The sleeping man dreams on - no thought of regret Chaos theory means future story's unknown not prophetic The changes to come at each stage will beget A conclusion to merely a chapter in the great epic