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Poetry Pleases: Marazion

John Ayling's poem tells of the day when a harsh reality destroyed a perfect scene.

Although it happened eighty years ago
I still remember that bright summer day
When I, a lad of fifteen then, first saw
St. Michael's Mount against the azure sky
It seemed that all the beauty of my dreams
Was in that scene enshrined the perfect day
The faery castle, white and lifted high
The shining clouds, reflected in the sea
That rolled in gentle waves across the bay
To break, in silver foam, upon the beach
Beneath the poppy field whereon I stood
Entranced red blossoms round about my feet.
In joyful mood I leaped down to the shore
To find, outstretched upon the golden strand
A seagull, lying dead beneath my feet.
It seemed to me that day near blasphemy
That to that place of beauty death should come
And with its ugly presence destroy my dreams.
I know not how that seagull came to die
I only know that it was dead and I
Who had been full of joy, was sore bereft.


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