June in Hythe.
Down in Hythe by the river side
Where the reeds are growing five feet wide
Cherries hang in fruitful tree
In allotments tended lovingly
Swallows glide in harmony
In the meadows by the town.
Within the park by the Roman Keep
Stands a cold grey stone in history deep
From the civil war that made men weep,
Up on the hill the view is wide,
As the sunsets orange at evening tide.
Buildings yawn from ancient times
Creaking gables, coloured limes
Roman wall built with hands
All now passed like shifting sands
Sagging rooftops on the move,
But to the eye they still approve.
Twisted oaks no longer square
Hold up walls of horses’ hair
Mixed with plaster centuries old
Changing shape like molten gold,
Walls leaning, moving through the years
Fill builders’ minds with sinking fears.
In Colchester town where time recedes
On Roman walls now grown with weeds,
History calls from building shapes
In coloured forms of architectural drapes,
Up on the hill the view is wide,
As the sunsets orange at evening tide.
Wojja Fink
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/colchester/
