Another poem of the future. This one belongs to a rare genre of poetry - science fiction.

It was 'lifted' from a short science fiction story of the same name. The tale tells of a search for a beautiful city on a distant planet, a city sometimes visible, sometimes not, and which has so far proved unapproachable - a kind of alien Brigadoon.

 

THE TOWERS OF ECHO WUN
by Tony Newman

Ah, see the towers of Echo Wun,
How stately there they stand;
Conceived by Gods, yet raised by men,
Upon the ageless sand.

Great nations rise and thrive, then die,
And, as all races must,
They, and their towers, return anon
Unto the sand, as dust.

Though eons pass, lost ways revive,
Secured by engram thread
The works and dreams of dynasties,
Whose architects, long-dead,

Transmute their vision, grand design,
And distant sons imbue
With exigency, plasm and plan
To raise their towers anew.

With every rising of the sun
How spires and turrets shone.
The fabled towers of Echo Wun
Whose time, again, shall come.

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ROMANCE by Robert Louis Stevenson

I will make you brooches and toys for your delight,

Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.

I will make I will make a palace fit for you and me,

Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.

 

I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,

Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,

And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white

In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.

 

And this shall be for music when no one else is near,

The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear!

That only I remember, that only you admire,

Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.