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Far Away

by Earl 

Posted: 21 January 2004
Word Count: 414

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There is a man on a hill
far away
by the sea.
With no boats on the waves or birds in the trees.
He sits on a bench that is close to the edge,
he can see up above and below from his ledge.
He can see to the left
to the right
and beyond;
and of sitting alone on his ledge he is fond.
He sits through the wind and the rain and the snow,
for this is a man with nowhere to go.

He covets the birds as he watches them fly;
and looks to the sky as to ponder the why.
The beard that he wears is tangled and long
much in need of a wash let alone of a comb.
His clothes lay as tattered as the dreams in his mind,
four species of moss on his coat you could find.
He doesn't have family,
he doesn't have friends
when the need for companionship grows he pretends.
He once had a dog, but that died with his pride.
He may look half as old but he's withered inside.
Aged by the seemingly endless charade
of living his life in the world that he made,
and the seemingly infinite plans that he drew,
they died with his faith in his friends that he knew.

He no longer exists in his own shattered world,
he is merely a leaf in the wind as it swirled.
Lifeless and useless,
devoid of it's source
resigned to a path to let fate take it's course.
A course which he fears
but for all his heart years;
as much as the pull of the earth as it turns.
He could pass for a rock for his movement is none,
he thinks of his life and the things that he's done.
For now they seem futile,
unthought in their cause
riddled with hurmourless laughable flaws.

He covets the birds as he watches them fly;
and looks to the sky as to ponder the why.
The wind calls his name as it calls to a leaf,
to contemplate falling to join those beneath.
There's a bench on a hill
far away by the sea;
with no boats on the waves or birds in the trees
The clouds shed their tears and it falls to the ground,
it rains on the bench and the world all around;
it rains on the dead in their graves as they lay,
but not on the man on a hill
far away.


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Comments by other Members

Bobo at 16:36 on 21 January 2004  Report this post
Wayne - such a sad piece. The rhythm is akin to the movement of the waves - a lament for a lost soul. Beautifully written - I'm awestruck.

BoBo x

Fearless at 17:28 on 21 January 2004  Report this post
Achingly beautiful.....u have captured a world revolving around one soul's stillness. Write on bro', you shine


roovacrag at 17:32 on 21 January 2004  Report this post
This got to me,I too sit alone and watch the birds. they are a comfort,I have friends i talk to thats the difference.Well worded and will get to a lot of people.Well done. x Alice

Ellenna at 18:32 on 21 January 2004  Report this post
It reminds me of the "fool on the hill".. nice sentiments..."pondering the why" is lovely.. and I like the rythmn...and at times I thought of Edward Lear too.. lovely.

just a couple of things.. the typo in last stanza.."no boats on the waves OR birds in the trees" and also trees without apostrophe..

a lovely wistful poem..

Ellie ...


( welcome to WWW.Writewords, Wayne) ...:)

Earl at 22:54 on 21 January 2004  Report this post


Who wrote fool on the hill ? i'd like to have a read of it. I've never thought of my writing as having a 'style', i'd like to know where I fit in.

Fearless at 22:58 on 21 January 2004  Report this post

I think Elllie may have meant the song, by Lennon/McCartney, but there is also a book of the same title, by Matt Ruff.


Earl at 23:02 on 21 January 2004  Report this post

Thanks Fearless..

dr_mandrill at 16:00 on 22 January 2004  Report this post
Fantastic poem, Wayne. Ditto what Fearless said about it revolving around one soul's stillness. I was going to say the same kind of thing, but it probably would have turned out 'I like how he just sits there an' that'.

Anyway, you get the point, look forward to reading more from you, dude.


Earl at 18:51 on 22 January 2004  Report this post

Thought I'd copy this to the comments just in case some of you don't read the forum much.

Wow....Thanks everyone, I didn't think I'd have any replies for a while but checked back anyway. I'm glad it was liked. Bobo, most of my work is rather depressing ! I was racking my brains for something at bit more light hearted, so that's as uplifting as it gets i'm afaid. Anne, I took a trip to Eastbourne in 94 with my school and saw a true hobo sitting on a park bench at the cliff point with seagulls arching around him, it nearly blew me off the cliff edge. And that was it I had to write something.
The stillness and the surrounding motion was one of the things I tried to capture fearless; trying to represent his inner turmoil externally. And thank you Ellena, I corrected the typo. I was in such a hurry to get it on here ! I'm suprised there was only one or two. I look forward to sharing with you guys again very soon.
doesn't get very cheery mind....

Dee at 19:17 on 22 January 2004  Report this post
Day after day, alone on a hill, the man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still.

Brilliant lyrics and this is out of the same mould. This is exquisite. It rolls.


ShayBoston at 20:36 on 23 January 2004  Report this post
Brilliantly crafted and - in my humble opinion - flawless. So easy to bob along to the relentless rhythm. I'm sure I'll come back to this many times.

paul53 [for I am he] at 10:45 on 08 March 2005  Report this post
Yet another fine find on Random Read. This is a good piece that merits a second and third reading.

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