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Array ( [sid] => 146425 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => From the sands of Cadiz bay [time] => 2008-11-21 07:26:09 [hometext] => Moving from the quiet Shire, I moved to the madness of London and Now I find myseld in Cadiz, (South west Spain) The oldest city in western Europe, its exceptional beauty and intense history inspired me to write this. [bodytext] => Which ghosts of past deceive me?,
These ones of Cadiz island may
As I sit here from the sands
Of this beauties's golden bay,

The sky meets the Atlantic,
As I watch the end of day,
Whilst the glistening sea it mesmerizes
I feel the wind swept spray.

This place I Live is mystical
Its history set in stone.
From Hercules tenth labour,
The city is said to have grown.

From where I'm sitting now,
the past and present are as one.
I can see all the history,
a thousand miles from where I'm from.

I welcome you to join me,
As I watch Columbus setting sail.
To the newfound lands winds take him,
With the blessing of a gale.

I hear the war drums drumming,
The battle of Trafalgar fought.
Its astonishing the ghosts that lie,
Within this placid port.

This poem I have resisted ghosts,
But to no avail.
When you see them everywhere,
You can not ignore their trail.

These stones here tell a story true,
And it intrigues me to think.
That not even Napoleon could conquer this,
Though he brought it to its brink.

There are galleons of antiquity,
Rising up from where they sank.
From grey their colours return,
Shedding their murky dank.

Their sails burst to life,
And their cannons I hear them roar.
I wonder how it would feel,
To be a soldier in this war.

What did Hannibal think when he watched,
The sun fall off the edge of his Earth.
And how did sir Francis drake feel,
When he withdrew to his people's mirth.

I do not know their feelings but mine,
And there is this I can guarantee.
There will always be a part of Cadiz,
Left here inside of me.

I try to paint this picture,
With a medium of words I write.
But nothing in this poem,
Is as beautiful as this sight.

Which ghosts of past deceive me?
These ones of Cadiz island may.
As I sit here from the sands,
Of this beauties's golden bay. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 263 [topic] => 73 [informant] => ATG [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )

From the sands of Cadiz bay

Contributed by ATG on Friday, 21st November 2008 @ 07:26:09 AM in AEST
Topic: abstract

Which ghosts of past deceive me?,
These ones of Cadiz island may
As I sit here from the sands
Of this beauties's golden bay,

The sky meets the Atlantic,
As I watch the end of day,
Whilst the glistening sea it mesmerizes
I feel the wind swept spray.

This place I Live is mystical
Its history set in stone.
From Hercules tenth labour,
The city is said to have grown.

From where I'm sitting now,
the past and present are as one.
I can see all the history,
a thousand miles from where I'm from.

I welcome you to join me,
As I watch Columbus setting sail.
To the newfound lands winds take him,
With the blessing of a gale.

I hear the war drums drumming,
The battle of Trafalgar fought.
Its astonishing the ghosts that lie,
Within this placid port.

This poem I have resisted ghosts,
But to no avail.
When you see them everywhere,
You can not ignore their trail.

These stones here tell a story true,
And it intrigues me to think.
That not even Napoleon could conquer this,
Though he brought it to its brink.

There are galleons of antiquity,
Rising up from where they sank.
From grey their colours return,
Shedding their murky dank.

Their sails burst to life,
And their cannons I hear them roar.
I wonder how it would feel,
To be a soldier in this war.

What did Hannibal think when he watched,
The sun fall off the edge of his Earth.
And how did sir Francis drake feel,
When he withdrew to his people's mirth.

I do not know their feelings but mine,
And there is this I can guarantee.
There will always be a part of Cadiz,
Left here inside of me.

I try to paint this picture,
With a medium of words I write.
But nothing in this poem,
Is as beautiful as this sight.

Which ghosts of past deceive me?
These ones of Cadiz island may.
As I sit here from the sands,
Of this beauties's golden bay.

Copyright © ATG ... [ 2008-11-21 07:26:09]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: From the sands of Cadiz bay (User Rating: 1 )
by myheartsvoice on Saturday, 7th March 2009 @ 02:24:30 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

i enjoyed this, a wonderous journey.

an eliquent style of writting, you poses .

Ben . . .

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