Shores of Malta
Rhythmic swaying of peaceful waves
Tides align with the influential moon,
Lapping gently on wave-beaten shores
Of frothy seaweed and golden limestone.
Dazzling, too-blue-to-believe waters
Mirrored in the bright afternoon,
Eroded shores ancient with history
Keeping its secrets of thousands of mysteries.
Within honeyed walls that echo through time
Are whispers of old that try to be heard by modern age man,
Who is so out of tune and his instincts low,
Not keyed to the earth.
Age-worn battles of power abide
Never realising that they’re against the tide,
For the Earth surely in its finest hour, will win its opponent in war,
And seal them in through Earth’s activity.
A very good and fitting cemetery.
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