"A Journey Through The Eyes of A Poet"

Glass and Stone

Upon this hilltop tower.

is a building made from Stone.

it sits, untouched,

a castle, for which it is unknown.

Weathered as it be.

tall it stands to this day.

the brownish bricks,

have slowly, fade to Grey.

It doesn't feel the earthquakes

nor the rain upon the Earth.

It doesn't feel the dunes,

and it hasn't felt the firth.

Lest us not forget,

the walls so strongly built,

Even so as not to break,

bend, or even tilt.

Not a crack in a structure,

not a single rigid cone.

built upon this hilltop

was this Castle, made from Stone.

In this Castle of Stone,

were windows made of Glass,

the colors and the fine lines,

of history; and its past.

Delicate and marveled

are the hallow painted windows.

shimmering sun dances with corners,

and the moon with shadows.

For the Glass inside the castle,

surely feels the most, it seems.

the glass which reflects the light

glimmers while it beams.

The Glass, it feels the Earthquakes

and the Rain upon the sill

The sand of time, which blows to and fro

and the grass from beyond the hill.

Lest us not forget.

the fragile panes of glass.

Daintily enough to break,

as tender as a rose,

which simply starts to wilt.

A Simple crack in a structure.

A broken window sill.

Was part made of this Castle,

the shattered pieces of Glass.

that were now scattered on The Hill.