No friend! You can’t lay foot upon this soil <br />This earth is mine, these endless barren meads <br />Are all but mine, these poplars and those reeds <br />Are but the harvest of my fallow toil. <br />This is my arid tilth and I will foil <br />All plunderers who come to pluck the seeds <br />Of vacuum, and uproot the gainless weeds… <br />This waste, my friend, must never be your spoil <br />And if I but your bold advance recoil <br />‘Tis out of pity, that your rosy deeds <br />May not miscarry, nor your merit leads <br />You unto ruin. Let me not embroil <br />Your vestal buoyancy, so please vacate <br />Your schemes, my friend, elude a noxious fate! <br /> <br /> <br />Adelaide <br />August 24th 1993<br /><br />Samer Madbak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-101-sonnet-47-graveyard/
