Old Man Lindis

Up country blackens with forked flashes
Of anger upon craggy peaks, whirlwinds 
Pirouette and dance down dusty woven beds
As first travellers splat the obscured pane
Observed achingly by a land seasoned man
He senses the twilight hours eagerly grasp
 
Foggy recollects of a spirited homely stead
Overlooking lush songful acres in chorus
Sending a burly saddled bloke to muster
Now abandoned gaze out to parched, cracked
Surrounds screaming thirst. A weary head slumps
He feels the rigid clutches of a mortal summer
 
Deluge barrages the ragged frame, rusted
Gate swings furiously concerted with flapping iron
Imminent in departure. A metronomic rocking
Followed by solemn eyes, a loyal soldier alone
In battle. Sullenness broken by his chilling howl
He knows the feeble strokes falter
 
Awakens, anxious strained glance across the valley
Catching murky glimpses of the old caretaker
Oak, gate-keeper of the after-life, sees his place
Nestling hers as the misty curtain descends
Finally waltzing their eternal encore
She embraces, whispering …