Saturday, March 11, 2006

The Henge Stones

Atte nyte

They walke

Ye did not noe

That they could goe

They talke

And nod theyr Grizl'd Heads

Leave theyr Mossie Beds

To whisper antient Lore

While the Moone flees from the Shore

And Darknesse reigns as afore.

They maun't be seene

By Mortal Eie

'Tis Death to spie

But when the Sunne

Hath his Race begun

They Silent fale

Stand stille and tall

Agaynst the Skie

None noweth why

Their Secrets they doe keepe

When we waxe wide awake



Barbara Tomlinson

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