Stone Henge and beyond

Just stones
Is that, all they are ?
Great tall heavy stones
That just happen to be there
In, one of those zones

Far beyond the pale
The imagination of the few
Hewn out of the mountains
With millenniums of dew
Lichens and of weathering
Subtle sculptors
Whose way
Is to sculpt
Is to polish
And to fashion
Really Come what may
And bare it’s mask of shadows
Beneath the footprint, we
Suffer the great hand of fate
SP4 7DE
That’s its present post code
But for me I cannot see
This henge in isolation
From how it has to be

To tunnel under that great work
As a civil engineer
Is a travesty in judgement terms
Acrylamide’s and beer
Underneath this edifice
Lies catacombs where we
Might find perhaps sarcophagi
Who knows
Perhaps those Pagan Kings
Who came down from the sky
In spherical corona’s
Anfractuosity
Now known as flying saucers
But to them just rocketry

The presence of loose stones would prove
They fell to rest from high
Concentric rings of history
Drawn down from the sky
To tunnel is to funnel
Is to kill the golden goose
Who cares about the 303
Remain strong and footloose
Put up with the inconvenience
And the modicum of delay
And leave the stones
Untouched unfettered
let that be the way