Walk with me
into the grey breaking dawn
where that sticking ridge of blue –
an English blue
rolls on into soft distances
and strange dancing names
Stand with me
by those set whispering stones
in a steadfast line –
a sore English line
of rasping pipes and howling socks
mouthing our memory
like a warning to tomorrow
a land forlorn to all but itself
Then help me to bury him
not on some crying strand –
in firm English land
where hallows' calls are grounded
our grief laid open
in the whitening bones of heroes
on this high scoured hill
© David Francis Barker 2011
Arrests at Stonehenge summer solstice celebration
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David Francis Barker: 'I try to paint, write poetry, prose, sometimes music - I guess that makes me an artist.' francisbarkerart.wordpress.com
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Editor's note: Those who witness the sun rise on the longest day, at Stonehenge, often experience an overwhelming sense of being connected to nature by ancient rite. Each year, it seems, more non-pagans are taking an interest in pagan beliefs.