Dawn

The place was Rollright Stones
An ancient ceremonial site
The weather was abysmal
Such a leaden light
Submerged us in the mists of time
Where a Cotswold group of friends
Were indulging in a Smithsonian jaunt
Which an icy vista sends

It enveloped all our senses
The rain and hail we found
The winds came in on a northerly
Freezing up the ground.
A package of uniqueness greeted me
As I
Met Clive James and the others
Underneath a slate grey sky
Casting almost everything
Down on us, on that day
Perhaps except for thunderbolts
Which seemed to stay away

She gardens with an intuitiveness
And whittles with such ease
Makes dresses and confesses
That doing that doth please
Her and she studies druidry
Clearly a fountain source
Of ancient times and places
Such a feminine force
For good above all others
A forager to see
The wherewithal to nature
With stacks of empathy
Enlightened and perceptive
With knowledge to adore
She really has a splendid aura
Of that I am sure.