Felix Dennis

Quite soon, the world will turn without me here:
And then? The stars will shine, the moon will rise,
And in a wood the wolves will stalk a deer.

The young will clock off work and sip their beer
And speak of those they worship or despise.
So soon, the world will turn without me here

While crowds at cricket matches clap and cheer,
And, top of class, a shy girl takes her prize.
Within a wood the wolves will stalk a deer

As anglers fling their floats beside a weir,
And backstage, some young Portia dabs her eyes.
Too soon, the world will turn without me here

While ‘auld lang syne’ rings out another year,
And, in a house close by, an infant cries,
And in a wood, far off, wolves stalk a deer.

Though men may ply among the stars and peer
Upon strange suns, or - stranger still! - grow wise,
Quite soon, the world will turn without me here:
And in a wood the wolves will stalk a deer.

Mandalay, Mustique February 16, 2006