Ancient Floors (Poetry)

The tesserae have lost their sun-glazed lustre,
Time’s sandalled feet have scuffed their colours pale,
once-bold designs insist a ghost of grandeur —
reveal a lifestyle lavish in its scale.

Imported marble hauled from foreign borders —
the glory that was Rome still echoes here —
magnificent in ruins, flaunting splendour
so powerful it seized this far frontier.

One palace civilized beyond its neighbours —
with lofty culture claiming regal space
to infiltrate, display its finer features —
the architecture of a conquering race.

Mosaics are left — the mighty columns crumbled
but floors survive — proof of their maker’s skill,
the centuries passed by and empires with them
but something of that era lingers still

in classic art — where Cupid rides a Dolphin —
his godly image fashioned stone by stone —
sea monsters writhe and waves roll neat, encircled,
where feet trod daily lives that are unknown.