Bog grasses and lochans
Distant mountains where the woman sleeps
caressed by the moon low in the sky.
A circle of rocks dragged here
in response to a mystic power
we still feel today.
Distorted gravity.
A kink in the moon’s journey.
previously published in Moonstone
Callanais stone circle, Lewis, Western Isles.
Beautiful phrasing and semantics. I've been looking through your blog. I love the pictures of hares :)
ReplyDeleteOh!, very nice, thank you.
ReplyDeleteA publishing well deserved as this is beautifully written. A circle of rocks... perhaps Stonehenge? Well done. Have a great weekend.
ReplyDeleteThanks Jasmine and D,Moll.
ReplyDeleteMichelle - the stone circle is Callanais stone circle, Lewis, click on the link to find out more....
Speaking purely personally, your best yet - and I don't usually say things like that. I find it stunning. Later I will analyse it for my own satisfaction, but right now I am just going to enjoy it.
ReplyDeletehello juliet, my son was just visiting these circles three weeks ago. i've sent him your poem - it's so elegant!!! have a peaceful day. steven
ReplyDeleteI love all the folklore that grows up around these places... and poems.
ReplyDeleteSuch a lovely visual poem, Juliet- and I agree with Jasmine- beautiful phrasing here- perfect, I would say.
ReplyDelete:)