The Age Of Science Poem by naomi smith

The Age of Science

Breezes never blow
Enough to take his hat,
his white Panama hat.
Nor do waves
keep him trapped on some rock.
The Knarled roots of Pines
on the bluff could trip him
as he walks down his dirt trail
his private stairs to the beach.
Here he can find peace
and work undisturbed,
his clamp board and
mechanical pencil
in hand.
A blueprint unfolds
for a better world
for a pure race
where humans never work
where machines have
equal rights with Man;
The machine,
slave to every whim,
unappreciated,
misunderstood,
who ever thinks of this?
All alone working
night and day
to save the world,
to give eternal life to Man!
The waves gently lap
on the sunny shore.
Unaware, he doesn’t
See them nor the sky
Nor the sun
Nor does he hear the
ocean’s roar.