I rested on the Sarsen and Blue. . .
Hung from an everlasting Yew,
And lied, mind-naked with the “Assedone’s”. . .
Through the sunny spokes, out from under the lintels, dark
I slaked them . . . them, and them there, Beaker Folk
(In the light, no one knew of the Druid!)
In this chron, unknown
Somehow, I could see them all rolling stones. . .
Heeling, my way, down an Avenue…
They placed their rocks
Measured, precisely put
Eight feet in the ground, viewing, twenty-two foot!
What was it, of Merlin, they wrote?
Over the sea, a wizard flew these rooks?
Well, it was a long-haired Gryphon, who locked earth’s door-bolt!
Many dug their barrows. . .
No cures to quote!
For years in address, until the altar stained red. . .
She laid in sacrifice on the Cosheston Bed. . .
And split all their artifacts!
Who knew of this Archer who slept
With his flints and child?
His key is on file!
Soon, he, nor Earth, will no longer rest quiet!
The Trees will speak of YOU!
And, of the Sarsen and Blue. . .
And me!. . . And we will ALL see how her song will lift stone!
With the matter from the midden, before every soul is lost!
Then, the planet opened up!
Kimmy Van Kooten