Long Avebury Poems

Across the land this morn, a roll of light 
Gave birth to shadows, cast from chalky hills
The larks ascended, sang away the night
Vibrated sky to waking with their trills
‘Tis Summer; round the circle swirls the...

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Come Friends, from all the quarters come
From mountain and from sea
And harken to the ancient drum
That beats at Avebury
The wren that sings, the bees that hum
The bard beneath the tree

Come Fellows, from the east and...

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Ancient and modern is this heartbeat 
of a kingdom of four territories;
becoming the first biter to the endocarp of industrialization;
the first host to a global carnival of sports;
running the eldest of all notable department stores
and...

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For Idril; a Summer Solstice rhyme

At Avebury, on Solstice eve, a crone and a maiden sat
The crone wore a weary wisdom, and the maid wore a flowery hat
And as the sun sank ‘neath the hill,...

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Written for the Avebury Gorsedd, 24th September 2016  
I wish you well...

I’m here, again…
Come riding in, upon the western wave
My hair all wove with golden leaves, my breast
As pale as moonlight on a hidden...

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Written for the Avebury Gorsedd, and the Equinox, Spring 2017

Can you feel her in the blood
The turning tides, the shifting of the skies
Or hear her on the wind, or in the cries
Of gulls that wheel...

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Written for the Winter Solstice sunrise at Avebury, Wiltshire, England

I have waited for you
Where no shadow seeps
Deep in the earth
Where the slow damp creeps
Under the stones
Where the sunlight sleeps
I have waited for you

I have listened...

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Wiltshire is a lovely place too be
A county with plenty of history
Neolithic rocks from north to south
You can even see a white horses mouth

With walks over undulating ground
Find the mystery of the giants mound 
You...

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I am all over Wiltshire
High up on the hills
I am immune from fire
To tourists I give thrills

You can see me from afar
By plane, on foot or in a car
I am as old as time can...

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Has Summer gone? Oh God, she was divine
Those crazy kisses, that incessant heat
Last seen by The Red Lion on the street
And off to Swindon on the 49 -
Another bus is coming, so it’s fine
That Autumn...

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The place where living dances with the dead,
Spirits gather to hear what wise ones said,
The mysteries that joins the heart and head
Are never lost in ritualistic stead.
In this, a sacred place of weathered stone
Where I...

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Avebury a Wiltshire village low
To windswept beacon of Ivinghoe.
Eighty-five miles,vale and hill
Wayfare freedoms,exhilarate and thrill.

Striding downs in grassy scrub
Midst trees and clumps of shrub;
Shaded lanes,gates and stiles,
Wayside pubs to rest awhile.

Overton to Wantage plain
Goring and...

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