The Echoes of History!
Warming is the glory of the morning sun – surrounded by fields of shimmering gold,
Curling the contours with the echo of journeys – where history it never grows old!
Seasonal cycles – riding like bicycles – forming a constant – forever on the move,
The elements flow – with the rain and the blow – where life carves out its groove!
Butterfly Whites – they take in the sights – where sun-bleached grasses highlight the sedge,
Like the sandy seas – washing up to distant trees – a vision northward through the paling hedge!
The welcome footpath with its sun-dried dusting – beckons us onward to enter the stage,
The startle of a Wood Pigeon shatters the still – before it climbs and leaves the page!
We weave the gauntlet of the Roundhouse footprint – wading through the holes and the bones,
A framework prone – reaching out by the Dogwood – taking up the lay that it owns!
The Gallery fading – with its natural shading – we find the bench that is showing its age,
We unburden provisions – a range of receptacles – breathing the feeling when the senses engage!
The Orchard Trees – they thrive in high degrees – lush and flourishing with fruit in swell,
The Silver Birch – standing grand and look majestic – with their time honoured tale to tell!
With a watchful wander – we travel through yonder – navigating the outer path and its flow,
Each established Tree follows suit – mostly heaving with fruit – as we sample how they grow!
The Almond hints at random bandit raids – early in the season with plentiful supplies,
The Hazel it seems – something of a delicacy – with a carpet of discarded shells there where it lies!
The Yew Tree triad – fills its angles flanked by Elders – a backdrop to the circle’s Samhain view,
Forming a pillar with its growth through the ages – a topiary statement of a plan will ensue!
Forming a footing for the stones of the circle – like the loosening of teeth in their receding gums,
The shrinkage of the earth – come summer’s heatwave – an annual occurrence the melody hums!
Standing to attention – with each in sun-wise turn – standing tall and noble as history planned,
Pointing out the directions and seasonal cross quarter days – resting in the palm of nature’s hand!
Second breakfast arrives with enthusiasm – pondering Peanut Butter butties – I take in the scene,
Picking out the contrast of the patchwork pigments – draped over the seasonal multitude of green!
Conversation meanders with the thinking aloud – sharing a moment tucked in the shade,
We recount of our memories as we gather for Harvest – as the echo of history is annually made!
We disengage our shaded frill – when we have eaten our fill – completing the dressing of the Stone,
There’s a call on the air – is there anybody there – parcelled away in the great unknown!
On conformation of contact – we share in the comfort – as welcome visitors pass through the gate,
One by one – settling down to lunch for some – preparation ventures when it can no longer wait!
Dragonflies flitter in the corner of your eyes – highlighting the spectrum with the Damsel Flies,
Glittering blues and greens and the in-betweens – brown and yellows darting – zig-zag wise!
Random Bumble Bees – they ramble as they please – sampling the secrets of the flowers,
Butterflies of White and their painted cousins – tickling on the breezes and busy for hours!
There are trails through the grasses – familiar passes – used by the cautious at night,
A solo – southern headed Raven – cronks a passing welcome – gliding in and out of sight!
The sun turns with the sun-wheel and dapples in shade – as preparation meets its end,
The lanterns flicker – as the heart beats quicker – with the spirit well and truly on the mend!
Repeating the echoes of history – the fathoms of mystery – gathering together in the round,
The chime falls silent as the drummer drums his roll – connecting one and all with the sound!
The calm descends – upon a group of kindred friends – feeling the meaning of words as they trail,
Celebrating the Harvest – with the turn of the seasons – and sharing in a toast with the Ale!
We pause in the moment to break of bread– sharing in the contemplation within our natural hall,
Enclosed under the wind swept tips of the Silver Birch – wafting their dancing in a sunlit shawl!
The fine sparkles – of the panoramic scenic friezes – paint a glorious vista for memories ease,
Sharing in the strength of foundation – within the Standing Stones – in a circle lined with Trees!
With most agreed – the bread was dipped in Mead and did its best to disappear,
On a retiring note – we return to the roundhouse – on to the shade of the Hazel near!
Gathering up my kit-bags – together with my musings – sharing in all there is to say,
Paviland pulls into the pits – to escort me and my bits – while the Gatekeeper closes the day!