Rollrights

On a hill
Looking over a patchwork of fields
Down into Chipping
A sky scape that builds
Onto tales of the past
Sweeping all who dare look
and take on the myths
From my little white book

The sum and the substance
Of Oxfordshire greenery
There in the shadows
A stone circle sighs
Ancient these great stones
Gnarled wizened and broken
Many a mole digs it’s own holes
Surprise!
Many below
In the sod of the moment
clearly
An energy
Second to none
Breathe in a solstice
Or even an Equinox
Walk in the footsteps
Which the ancients have done

Its left in their passing
An Indistinguishability
Aura’s far ranging
And spirits galore
The heat of the moment
Transfixed in a cool breath
Of magick beyond any spell
Felt before
You May be exhausted
Or windswept and shivering
But stood in the circle of life
Most agree
A freshness it’s as if ancestors
Are present
Each with a warmth
And An intensity

Rollrights is genuine
Different and magickal
It’s flawless and thorough
And strangely enough
It’s almost like entering
Another kingdom
Don’t go there hungry
Get plenty of puff
And walk to the Kings Stone
And the whispering knights
Get your feet in the long grass
And take in the sights
The wind on your face
The ice and the frost
Just off the road
And you could well feel lost

Perhaps in another world
Far far away
From the sludge and the budge
And the mud and the clay
On a Bright day the sun shines
The birds sing the light
Is brighter by far
Coming down from a height
Even if it’s wet
And Jack Frost is about
Biting the tips of one’s ears
There’s no doubt
The knowledge of the ancients
The builders is there
Warming the heart strings
With a loving care.