The Ebony Gate

• Hattie Shand, Grade 7, Rose Bay Secondary College
• Poetry
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

The gate was not perfect, you could see from the splinters and wood,
But the child with the bright red coat stood waiting, like all good children should.
The child’s own breath echoed in the silence, like the sounds of the waves in a shell.
Meanwhile the sun rose - then glowing, it fell.
The child’s pure, pearly hands gripped the golden ebony gate,
Reaching, pleading for something that didn’t notice the wait.
The ancient ghosts rose from the silvery snow gums of the land that held the child in suspense,
The browned, dry grass, licking at the sides of the fence.
Hope revolved around the child; trust no longer there,
Slumped shoulders, a cry of definite despair.
Now the child with the red coat has gone, the ebony gate, even more torn,
Leaving the lonely, harsh land to wait and to mourn.