J P Marmaro Poet Englyn

A Triad of Englynion

I.

The eldest of unknowns, on hill or heath,
The hoary standing stones--
Secret, silent tombs or thrones-- 
Huddle where the tempest moans.

II.

In birch-bright woods we find fairy circles,
Rings of toadstools designed,
It seems, by some feral mind,
Unfathomed by humankind...

III.

Through velvet blue, star-strewn skies and throbbing
At the full rides the Moon,
With whom the night-winds commune,
Intoning their chthonic rune.

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Darlene De Beaulieu February 11, 2019 at 3:30 PM Hello J.P. Marmaro, so nice to meet you. This poem makes me want to visit these standing stones. I would be drawn to these stones. Have a nice evening my friend. Darlene De Beaulieu February 12, 2019 at 2:06 PM What do i think? I like the number 1. It speaks to me.Have a nice day my friend. I am happy that you asked my opinion. I look forward to reading more of your poems. J P Marmaro February 11, 2019 at 8:36 PM Greetings, Darlene, and many thanks for your kind words. I have just amended the poem; replacing the word "ancient" with the word "hoary", which carries the same meaning but with overtones of extreme ancientry. I also thought it sounded better (alliterating with "hill", "heath" and "huddle"). What do you think? Thanks again!