Sonnet of Boscawen-un

Stone Mother

White Mother Stone rebounds a yesteryear

That darkly hearkens round some incubus

Oppressed by word.  It sounds androgynous,

Alien, pulsed upon a pressured ear,

To remind the re-opening.  Native

Of memory hides... whilst the big divide

Rapes, decries and lies for the wars worldwide.

But something lurks around this allusive

Stone. My pen is stilled for no word inscribes

This knowing, signed in an entirety

Of giving life - beating by ten thousand vibes.

It will kill Man’s pride and futility.

Heartily, I strangely listen in time

To her Sirens and a fearless sublime.

 

Written at Boscawen-un Stone Circle

Where Maijick Is

Still