'Rust to Dust'

Clocking time idly, cargo boats lie open To sky, emptied and hungry, their restocked Trade held in containers, secured and roped. Standing amazed I watched them stowed and locked Before I moved on. These old docks, manned long By Cornish toil, musty now, looked supreme In retrospect. Winter sun highlights rungs On ladder rising from the sea, tells me That the tide is on the ebb. I must leave A scene of modern rust, and trudge my way To ancient dust. Pendennis Castle weaves It's spell in style. Long lists record past affrays With foreigners who dared to land ashore. What's more King Henry had a second skin Built into Castle Tower, and such gory Battles were once fought hand to hand within It's ramparts. Now dusty noise is canned. Artificial guns roar hourly, - - - heard By gasping public, who startled, jump and Coyly grin. The granite utters not a word. Fay Slimm