Dressage un Ltd., Unlimited Dressage,

Bernie

Hedge of Stones

The stones whisper of ancient dreams,
Once they measured moon and stars,
Clock of life for souls long vanquished,
Leaving bare bones scattered concentric.

A place of priests and whitecraft witches,
Feared by men of war-marked cheeks,
Weight of wisdom more than geology,
From forgotten farmers of lost stones.

The wind bears echoes of long stilled voices,
Heard by hawks that stoop and soar,
Over shadow patterns traced by the sun,
Diurnal dance of ghosts of the stones.

Moonlight enchants lovers and other immortals,
Lures them to dance amidst brooding granite,
Brings them to embrace for infinite moments,
Watched over gladly by the smile of the stones.

Monolithic petals of a glorious flower,
Eternal bloom open to heaven's warm gaze,
Visited by seasons seeking its nectar,
Once was the wish became rings of stone.

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