Atlantis
AtlantisI walk down streets of white marble
Sunbeams glisten of flakes of gold
buried deep within the worn stones
The white walls of nearby buildings
shine yellow and orange as if they are on fire
Statues line the streets, lifelike images
of heroes long gone
Their feats remembered by aging grandmothers
are told to little children gathered before them
The wind is warm and gentle
scented with the taste of salt from the immortal sea
Clouds change and flow as they are blown across
an azure sky
Stars fill the blackness of midnight
Trails of light lead into the smoothness
of a resting sea
Men and women walk arm in arm
as they listen to pan flutes playing in a market somewhere
Their melody carried on a constant breeze
Getting softer and more serene with each second
A thousand, thousand people have walked
these streets but never were unhappy words ever spoken
If you listen ever so closely you may still hear
their voices speaking of love and futures
dreams and wishes
Chariots drawn by white horses weave through
narrow streets lined with markets and shops
Sellers tell passer-bys of silks and jewels, ebony and desserts
Groups of people stop to talk and some to buy
No one leaves unhappy and no one ever complains
Children play unendingly before great gold fountains
Their parents watch as the children laugh so
hard they do not know how to stop
even if they wanted to
Nowhere can a weapon be seen
There has never been a war
Never has a live been lost in anger
One night, one quiet night, all was lost
No more dreams, no more wishes
Only a legend of a people no one knew
but everyone remembers
Poetry by Rob Taylor
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Written on 2006-11-27 at 07:31
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Kathy Lockhart |
