"Pitcairn Guardians"

by David Townsend (July 17, 2003)

Quiet guardians, of an Islands best.
Around no more to serve,
Silently removed, laid to rest.
Their final reward, justly deserved.

Who were these gentle beings,
That walked Pitcairns paths?
Life was not as it seems,
Always exposed to the oceans wrath.

Carving out their lives,
Asking little of the outside world.
Their spirits and souls would thrive,
As their relationship with God should.

What influence did they play,
To the fellow creatures of the earth?
Living life day by day,
Discovering new values and their worth.

What questions would they answer,
To a fellow man who came along,
In their songs they were the 'dancers',
Of old Polynesian days so long gone.

In their hearts, they were the Britts,
Loyal and faithful to a 'crown'.
Of old Royal Navy Ships,
Descended from seamen that were no longer around.

These men, these women,
Few would come to know them.
As they left the Island, strange omens,
Unknownst, would overtake and divide them.

Those that remained,
Little of life, would but change,
Calmly following routines again,
Every now and then to be rearranged.

As life is passed down,
To each new generation.
New hope is shared around,
Along with new alterations.

These Islanders of old,
They are resting, not forgotten,
Their stories still being told,
In the Pitkernese tongue soft as cotton.

With each fading light,
Of a soul once known,
A final goodbye is said, so right.
As their spirit has upward, flown.