An Everchanging Port

I am an everchanging port, thrust into every

trade and weather.

With time, the wood of my port wears and

grows in wealth and wisdom.

And the steps of mankind, appear a blessing in

their mark.

Saccharine fruits sweeten, and newfound riches

illuminate my bay--bringing colour & song to

my being.

A swelling habit, I yearn for more & permit

man's continuous tread.

But beware, as want and beckon soar,

unknowingly, the riches may cloy,

too much to bear.

My planks slowly lose their vigor, the wearing

starker, barely steady still.

I am an everchanging port, and change

prevails my mold.

I am deluged and blinded.

And the mews of passing seagulls, I must now,

evermore, retain.

- Gwyneth

24.8.2022