Above the wind I heard your voice
And touched your greying face
Before the earth I laid my soul
My arms did then embrace
The contours of your age-old stone
Ran warm between these hands
And just beyond your eyes of black
Run rivulets of sand
I lay these hands on each of you
Enraptured and in awe
And from this heart a chorus sprung
To all who must endure
Another beautiful rhyming poem by you this week. Maybe outwardly simple to some but that simplicity is hard to master, apart from the easy flowing rhyme and meter much lays hidden within. Well-constructed, you have created vivid imagery of these Callanish Standing Stones that have come to life at your touch and the age old hands that created them. So few these days take the time to give credence to places such as this. Thank you for taking me there !
Curious, have you ever been there? Had the privilege of flying over them in a small plane in highschool. I was in an advanced placement european history class and over the summer we toured. This was one of our stops. When you look down the stones are arranged like a sword pointing north. The circle is the crossguard. It really is beautiful. I never got to see them up close.
Gorgeous work with your imagery here, I especially like that you used unique images and not just standard run of the mill images. I appreciate the detail in this piece and how every line feels so perfectly placed and precisely penned as well. But I think my favorite thing about this write is that you were able to keep such beautiful smooth tempo without any punctuation or form at all. Greatly written.