<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509862" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>City Of Stone</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This City is old, <br>wrapped in the skin of a<br>maiden whose time is past.<br>Abandoned by her ghosts<br>-fled to the countryside <br>where graves are tended <br>and people remember.<br>The buildings speak, no one<br>listens anymore. The mortar<br>has memory and stays true.<br>The stones have integrity and<br>stand up until young men come<br>to build new truths and grind the<br>stone to dust. They are young<br>men with purpose searching for<br>the promise of hope fulfilled and<br>the end of age.<br>The old men age with wine. No<br>longer hungry, they have learned<br>to be full on the only bread worth<br>eating. Work holds them firmly in<br>tow, at anchor in the harbor, <br>content to miss the Sea.<br>The women are full of grace<br>except the young and beautiful, <br>they are full of lust for the dance<br>and men to hold their hands, <br>hands that will cradle dreams<br>keeping them alive in times <br>of drought. The women of grace<br>stand in doorways, lean from windows, <br>hang washing, pasta and dreams.<br>The children are lost.<br>Lost to American dreams.<br>Lost to music, names and the<br>promise of hope fulfilled, the<br>end of age.<br>America where nothing is old, there is<br>no memory, everyone has purpose, <br>grace, bread, wine, and truth is green<br>water flowing from the rock of Moses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Around the City water recedes<br>exposing barren mudflats<br>where even the clams refuse to dig.<br>And when the wind shifts <br>instead of salt air what it carries is sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The young men age while they sleep.<br>Women become keepers of dreams.<br>Old men disappear into the Sea.<br>Children fly west to purpose, <br>hope, truth, bearing the torch<br>they so eagerly lit.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The City will sleep.<br>Lie dormant with shallow breath<br>until Her ghosts return, <br>She sheds Her skin, <br>is once more the Maiden of old.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ronald+Shields">Ronald Shields</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509862" data-title="City Of Stone de Ronald Shields" data-description="This City is old, wrapped in the skin of a maiden whose time is past. Abandoned by her ghosts -fled to the countryside where graves are tended and people remember. The buildings speak, no one listens anymore. The mortar has memory and stays tru..."></div> </div> </div>

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