Peter Wilson's drama script collection



A Dream . . . that somehow came out in blank verse

I walked among the gravestones of the just;
men who had met the challenge of their fate
imperfectly, no doubt, but still kept faith
at heart with what they knew at heart as right.
No living soul remembered even then
their lives; their epitaphs
already crumbled under lichen growth.

I walked among the gravestones of the just
their only footprints left upon the sand of Earth
not yet washed over by the tide of time.
Was it then worth the fight, to keep in check
the gargoyle grin of evil that would twist
the smile of virtue, and corrupt
the heart of every decent, upright man?

I walk among the gravestones of the just,
the wreckage of great cities, long destroyed:
by war or time? It matters little now.
The air is still and cold: all else is quiet
for life has gone, the time for life has passed
on this
the ruined planet of a dying sun.

I walk among the gravestones of the just,
those shattered remnants that alone still stand
as witnesses to Man; that Man who dreamed
in all his glory, and with all his faults,
of building here a paradise . . .
The dream is over, but my ghost returns
to mourn among the gravestones and the dust.

Peter D. Wilson
Holmrook, ca. 1970
Copyright © 2001, 2016


  A cycle of Haiku based on the Cumbrian coastal year.


  A set of Limericks mostly based on Cumbrian place names.