Seeping through the
spongiform

Water and limestone
salts and
calcification

Accumulated wealth of
language.

Oh, my girl,
put those hungry eyes away

I
Vast hollow scraped
from land by the
slow cadence of some
retreating glacier.

Melt from high flows
larvic to fill the void.

Quiet invasion of
waters forming
stone quarrying
rivers until,
overfilled the
crystal clears

Overspills and
streams to ocean
lapping at milk-
white cliffs,
hungry as cats.

II
Quiet invasion
walking on
continental drift

Wattle and daub
blue-dyed men
lakeside.

III
Hush now the
quiet priest
hands out leaf
to cover the fig
fruit of fecundity

IV
Without sound
quiet bands move
always move and
increase until

Around the fire in
moonlit waters shown
the tom toms open
relentless beat

V
Too late
too late the quiet
invaders imitate
and mock

Then ****-

Nations at war
within

Lachrymose old man
touches fingers
through the pane with

Young boy, arm around
his dinky dog

Counting carriages
on the click-clacking
train

Is it true what the scientists say
That life on earth will end one day?

I guess that they are probably right
There'll be no day, there'll be no night

The ozone layer is full of holes
Rising temperatures melting ice floes

Will we perish in enormous Floods?
The thought of it just chills the blood

Or will earthquakes bury us out of sight
Will fire devour us without a fight?

Storm and tempest, some folk say
Will make us kneel in final prayer

The forecast? Now  I'll give you mine:
It will end in two thousand and seventy nine


Keith Wilson            June 25 2016

You told me you
              Couldn't find your way
                                     In your darkest nights
So I left you a star
               A star in every poem
                               To find your way home

The  Deluge

Heavy  thundery  rain
Cascading  down  from  the  heavens.

The  sheer  volume  of  water
Causing  a  sinister  mist  across  the  rooftops.

A  waterfall  suddenly  fell
In  front  of  my  window.

The  gutters  unable  to  cope.

For  a  few  moments
It  felt  like  the  end  of  the  world.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.