Nothing In My Beat, Irretrieable
Poem By james watkin
Nothing in my beat, irretrievable
That takes to treks, as something
Exiled of its own volition
Ever dispirits, within
What is both the acquainter
Of Nature, and admirer.
Gull-surrounds of loneness though tipping!
Though with an ached forlornness
Heard shore-broke. For there kinship's found.
With what of its sacredness
Is for a domain blown through.
Is that what soul responds to.