Coliseum Of Elements

Reads: 301  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Walking the Langdale Valley in Cumbria as the weather quickly changes.

Submitted: August 20, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 20, 2011



Coliseum Of Elements.



When the sun is high in the valley of crystals

And the anxious peaks have lost their shadows,

The slate ridge is my pathway under the canopy of firs

As I traverse these elements and witness many births

On my walk through a climate of fickle, gentle violence.


I look to our feet and see that her game has started

As the marbles of leafy light roll scattily up the hill.

Born from the clouds, the sun and the dancing leaves,

These white and silver bearings hold my attention until

The shuffling beams tease my eyes elsewhere

As I hunt for the source of the gill I cannot see.

For only sound is her gift as she cruelly denies me the sight

Of the invisible waterfall that cascades around me.


As I search for the source of my watery soundtrack I gaze across the valley.

Clouds that match the slate underfoot suggest her increasing tally

Of climate change throughout this day is about to alter further,

As the downy battleships descend, they are welcomed among the heather.

They’re harboured to the valley floor, only the breeze can break their tether,

This rugged ravine in which I’m stood, I expect the unexpected weather.


I turn and see that a wall has appeared and is stumbling next to me,

Jutting roots and outcrops of stone provide some kind of haven

For all the life that resides here with the bricks and mortar that nature has given

So freely and without question - we humans toil and graft for days

For what she freely gives away.


Flowers grow precariously and mysteriously from a bed of rock,

Bracken and moss provide a roof and I wonder if I’m being gently mocked

As all the elements are already here

To build a home would take a thousand years,

Yet we wouldn’t have to raise a hand

As she would mould it into her land.



Another glance across this amphitheatre shows a perspective that I respect,

For my field of vision is bombarded with an added dimensional depth.

As I stare at the tips of a thousand firs

From the immediate warmth of the bark and girth

Of a massive trunk so near to me,

His brothers stretched as far as the eye can see.








© Copyright 2019 Richmaggs. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: