‘Silence Of The Stones’
© Joe Canning 2017. All Rights Reserved.
Oh what tales the stones could tell,
Of Celtic men on mountain shelves,
Of warrior, slave, of serf or early man.
What would they say of those that lay,
With warrior sword ‘neath Celtic clay,
Of Queen or prince or priest or common soldier.
Of pagan, Christian, Bards of old,
Of High King’s dressed in silks and gold;
Recite lost chants, old prayers, old incantations.
Of how they witnessed centuries fly,
And clouds and wars that passed them by,
Of victories and defeats of slashing foe.
The gurgling babes, the lover’s lass,
Deflowered in the dew kissed grass,
Name the souls that sleep beneath the mounds.
Oh what words these stones would speak
Of ancient tribes, of marching feet,
If only they could raise a telling whisper.,
Of asteroids that bypassed Earth,
Of men in rags and men in pelts,
Of ancient forbears gone to the hereafter.
But secrets every stone will keep,
As shelter they the grazing sheep; but
Oh what tales these silent stones could tell.
Photo: Beaghmore Stone Circles, Co Tyrone, Captive Landscapes by Stephen Emerson