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The Ancient Windmill

Behind the blear of the setting sun
It stood aloft, shearing a line
Splicing the crimson and ocher tan
And in its façade it intertwined
Blending in the shadow as it spun
The fortuitous wind it forever consign

Oh! How it loomed athwart the shore
With a salient stance too sturdy
Subsisting the weather with covert valor
For many a tale that fell in history
Travels with the winds it scull and roar
With many a soul it had ferry

Like a sentry it muse upon
The small world down its feet
Whilst propelling the gears to run
To endeavor even when on the edge it sits
For it knows with virtue and wisdom
The secrets to vie and reflect in split

And there it stands to gaze on us and aid
Whilst we watch you too, never fading in savant shades

poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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