The sea haar hangs, a shroud of grey
The surf sounds muffled, far away
This place was lived in once they say
But now is ruined.
To pass from headland to the rock
Stone fingers loom out from the murk
A monument to mason's work
A moment's wonder.
Footsteps muffled in the grass
Then walk the causeway's lofty path
To stand amid the walls at last
In deathly hush.
To see it thus stirs imaginings
Of deeds long gone and stuff of Kings
Its past seeps slowly through your veins
A binding spell.
Rocky outpost in the sea
A bastion held to keep us free
No longer needed but for fee
From curious tourist.