Relegation Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Grey Havens: mystery of history,
elves, fairies, trolls and dragons relegated
to legend, myth, bequeathing his story
to few who vital choice negociated.

We are but figments Christmas-Yet-to-Come,
what the Dickens, rarely passes on,
Game's aim: fame, heart-chart, lies forever dumb,
apart from some poetic rants few run
beyond their time, their rhymes forgotten lie,
beyond their generations, bask in glory,
here today, tomorrow silenced, sigh
pulls few strings through leaves rustle till too hoary.
Time, tide, unceasing, wave good bye, to see
ships' drips, drops, ripples, iced eternally.