Ozymandias My Friend

Did you not see it coming in the end?

Your works destroyed over millennia.

Floods bury your kingdom with sand and mud.

Wind, dust, and sun,

Wear down your monuments, your run

Long since done.

Empires come and go with the tide,

Pilfered treasures, genocide,

Wars, plagues, famine pushing you aside.

How temporary is our reign

O’er this dry and sandy plain,

Our visages disappearing in the rain.

For Paul

 

As I pondered the temporary nature of life, I remembered the poem Ozymandias by Shelley. It is a favorite of mine from long ago. The above poem came to me. After I wrote it I looked up Ozymandias online. Turns out this year is the bicentennial of its publication in 1818. Paul would have appreciated that as a publisher. He laughed loudly and with gusto. He loved life and will be remembered fondly by all who knew him.