Presumably Peace
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009


With tides to come
Of summer past
The waves of ice
Sweep in at last

They chill the sand
And leave a stand
Of winter grand
And will remain

With spring to rise
With fall at all
The world in spice
Presumes to call

A listener less
Observer past
The future dressed
In white at last

A piece of peace
A roar for war
With ageless rage
And more in store

The age of free
The time so fond
Will come and be
And last, beyond