I Suffer Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

I suffer
when I see the firs and oaks
in Hastings Gardens open to
the blasts of so many
storms.

There
even the crackling of a thunder
fear spreads.

And
in the lightning shines and then
goes dark again
the monument in the garden
yet
in serene nights of moon
kindly and pitying plays
the moon-light.

Even in dread are Hastings Gardens
beautiful.

Even in wildest storms and gales
are Hastings Gardens magnificent