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Post by Craig on May 19, 2006 6:03:58 GMT -1
One cold winter solstice at the Rollright Stones a mad old druid begins to wonder why he is there and not in front of a nice warm fire with a large glass of mulled wine… Cold rain drips down my neck, But I'm here so what the heck, On yet another pointless trek? No idea of where I'm going.
As I stand before these stones, The chill reaches to my bones, And I wish I'd stayed at home. Oh brilliant, now its snowing!
I know most people think me mad, Maybe that is not so bad, For the sanity that I once had, Is lost and it is showing.
But the stones still draw me in, And whisper to me, where you been? As if they were my kith and kin. And the world around me's slowing.
I wish I could put a finger, On to the doubts that linger, And ignore the golden singer, Whose passion leaves me glowing.
When she leaves me in the dawn, As the light of day is born, Then I hear the huntsman's horn, And the promise that is growing.
For an age is now at hand, For those who'll take a stand, Fighting for this sacred land, And keep this tradition going.
The road back home is so long, But my heart is filled with song, My doubts they all have gone, Replaced by certain knowing.
So I will sing out loud, To all in man's great crowd, Stand tall and straight and proud, For in us the spirit's flowing!
Bright blessings, Craig /|\
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Post by Blackbird on May 19, 2006 6:39:04 GMT -1
Wonderful I've been there too, many a time - chilled to the bone and feeling like an eejit... yet it is always worth the price
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Post by Heron on May 21, 2006 12:47:42 GMT -1
I've been there too, many a time - chilled to the bone and feeling like an eejit... yet it is always worth the price Indeed tis! Before is never appealing when its weather like that, but after is always good whatever the weather. And yes, Craig, you capture the feeling well. Thanks Bendithion Greg
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