A heavily wooded shady lane
\nA rusty gate to where
\nA path looks down on Chipping Norton
\nA hillock green and fair
\nThe rollright stones
\nFrom neolithic times
\nRest peacefully
\nWhere A labyrinth and brilliant light
\nIs there for all to see<\/p>\n
Might there have been a garrison
\nOf the kings men in their prime
\nWho came upon a wicked witch
\nWho posed to them in rhyme
\nNot far away Long Compton
\nFamed for its witchery
\nWhere Oxford stone and fine old thatch
\nWas Created magically<\/p>\n
A tIme of transformation
\nAnd nurturing perhaps
\nIn the spirit of the celtic oak
\nPerhaps these kingly chaps
\nWould not turn back
\nAnd they became the stones
\nThat we now see
\nEncircled and considered
\nFor an eternity<\/p>\n
The sun god represented
\nAt the high point in the sky
\nFrom the driest seeds to the greenest
\nShoots
\nTo groves as we pass by
\nResplendent glossy and vital leaves
\nTinged with gold and red
\nFertility the likelihood
\nWhere some may raise their head<\/p>\n
And look across the silent hills
\nWhere buttercup and chrome
\nWhere sulphur mustard and sallow
\nOn these paths may roam
\nDandelion and cadmium yellow
\nMarigold and tangerine
\nColours bold and inviting
\nEnhancing the summer scene<\/p>\n
In the circle we have ritual
\nDruids cloaked in white and green
\nWe taste the heat of honey mead
\nBelow the moles have been
\nPeculiarly busy
\nTurning over mounds
\nDancing in the muddy bowels
\nAnd doing the rounds<\/p>\n
Everywhere its summery
\nSolar colours shine
\nThe magic down the ages
\nEverytime is mine
\nThe dry stone wall to Compton
\nThe druidic world of tree
\nSeventh amongst the thirteen months
\nWhere it needs to be<\/p>\n
The ancient ones have always
\nPreached under this mighty tree
\nAs such pursuits will always be
\nStrong and secure continuously
\nUprightness and morality
\nA day to remember extraordinarily
\nAnd a noble regard
\nFor the work of the bard
\nWho recites his words poetically.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A heavily wooded shady lane A rusty gate to where A path looks down on Chipping Norton A hillock green and fair The rollright stones From neolithic times Rest peacefully Where A labyrinth and brilliant light Is there for all … Continue reading