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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

Date: 2/11/2019 3:30:00 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
Date: 2/12/2019 2:06:00 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
Date: 2/11/2019 8:36:00 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!