The Red Lion

The Red Lion
at the bend
that takes souls off
to Swindon, and beyond
along a dark and twisty lane
where lovers fly
and hearts do bond
its hanging baskets shudder
as the night wind wakes
where we hear, a ghost walks
peacefully
and now for all our sakes
clearly based in Avebury
she’s so charged, and she feels
the need to prove her presence
to some visitors, she kneels
quietly by their bedside
and thus she then reveals
herself, her wondrous aura
her gentle loving face
The Red Lion now at Avebury
welcomes her with grace
Last evening as the night
rolled in
I waited just close by
my goddess was within its walls
a pink flare in the sky
I watched, and felt the frosty air
descending down on me
remembering the place
and its amazing history.