Inside the barrow
In its complete darkness
I sit on my stool
And its as if my eyes are
Closed to what is outside
Of my being
All seeing all freeing
And hearing my call
Who else may have sat here
Who else shared this silence
Who can say who can tell
Does it matter to me
Strike a light
See the rockface
Feel it, and know it
The last person living
May be
I came in from the light
Could i see any more
Than the darkness inside
Than the feelings that are
Silently delving now into my marrow
The marvel of what is
this true long barrow
Where my thoughts are so far
Greater the smell it is so over powering
Is it the antidote that just may take
Me back to a time when England was quieter
When I collected tin from the Dart
And did make
Beads for my lady
My ravishing beauty
Rendered to dust in the annals of time
But brought back in thought
Of the truest injustice
That slithers and withers
To life in this rhyme