The Promenade

This poem was entered in a competition back in my uni days. The Bondi History Society were after piems on Bondi beach to use in marketing. I received a note from them to say it had nearly won. Nearly!

Promenade walkers gaze to sea

Many only see the sand

Browned bodies worshipping
In the Heat
And waves washing ashore.
They do not see
The beauty of a sunrise
Over distant horizon
Or the grandeur of a sunset
Spreading its setting rays
Over the still, summer sea.
They know not the history
Of this place where indeed
Many of us call home
Of ancient rush-filled lagoons
Now covered by bustling roads
Of the rocks tossed by waves
On its northern side
Nor the story of the mermaids
Who on the rocks
Damaged by rain and tide
Reside still.
Indigenous carvings hidden on rocks
Now aged by time.
This is my Bondi
Not a home to aimless seekers
Nor those who care not why it is here.

Tim Alderman
Copyright ©2001


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