Littlestone
|
Re: Megalithic Poems
Jul 22, 2005, 00:33
|
A knackering week, and I'm off now to that dark and silent gate called sleep. But with a line from Jane's poem still tinkling in my mind I'll leave you with the following little bit of Latin...
<i>horas non numero nisi serenas</i>
'I do not count the hours unless they are bright' (those words and wit being sometimes found on old sundials - as well as being etched deeply into the hearts of old optimists everywhere :-)
Sleep well.
|
nigelswift
|
Re: Megalithic Poems
Jul 22, 2005, 12:00
|
|
O go on then. I'm still sobbing over Reynard the Fox that I had to recite in 1954 and haven't thought about since...
|
Littlestone
|
Edited Oct 09, 2006, 10:55
Nigel Swift
Jul 22, 2005, 12:48
|
|
And by our very own Nigel,
|
nigelswift
|
Re: Megalithic Poems
Jul 22, 2005, 12:57
|
|
Jeez, not in a cringemaking fashion I said. And DON'T post the one about the vicar, the verger and the horseshoe.
|
Littlestone
|
Re: Megalithic Poems
Jul 22, 2005, 14:09
|
Stop being so modest Nigel - it's a beautiful poem and one of my favourites.
Now, what did I do with your vicar, the verger and the horseshoe ;-)
|
Moth
|
Re: Megalithic Poems
Jul 22, 2005, 15:36
|
It's very nice! (Tho I prefer your recent prose piece on Silbury 2505 meself!)
love
Moth
|
nigelswift
|
Re: Megalithic Poems
Jul 22, 2005, 16:32
|
So do I. Down to earth's what's needed -
I ay mythered so dow yow yawle
They'm all tocky bonks an thissun ay no more thon thatten
So tarah Stonehenge tarah Sibury tarah Tara
They'm just big lommocks (I bay gooin' ter tell yow agen)
|
Moth
|
Re: Megalithic Poems
Jul 22, 2005, 16:46
|
Incredibly, I think I got most of that.... (Tha nootah...!!!)
loove
Moth
|
Littlestone
|
Edited Oct 09, 2006, 10:56
Anon: Nothing More for my Pillow
Jul 24, 2005, 23:08
|
Nothing more for my pillow
I climbed Waden Hill a while ago, up from the Avenue past a clump of hawthorn and a badgers' set. The corn hadn't grown too high yet and the year was still about to begin. A couple of larks had decided to build a family there, scurrying and tweeting and still not too sure how to proceed. I puffed and ambled to the summit and there by a wooden post stopped and set my soul down. Below stood Silbury Hill, stunningly wondrous and lovely in the midday light.
I will not go from explosions and insanity. Nor will I fall into the foolishness of conceit. I will climb the hills and paint myself amongst the imaginings of it all. Peace, poetry and stillness, and nothing more for my pillow...
Anon
|
nigelswift
|
Edited Oct 09, 2006, 10:58
Emmeline Fisher: Lines suggested by the opening made in Silbury Hill 1849
Aug 21, 2005, 10:30
|
Littlestone, you may have included this in your poetry collection already, but now that the date stone at the entrance to Dean Merewether's 1849 tunnel is visible, it seems a good moment to cite Emmeline Fisher's poem –
"Lines suggested by the opening made in Silbury Hill, 1849"
Bones of our wild forefathers, O forgive,
If we now pierce the chambers of your rest,
And open your dark pillows to the eye
Of the irreverent day! Hark, as we move,
Runs no stern whisper down the narrow vault?
Flickers no shape across our torchlight pale,
With backward beckoning arm? No, all is still...
As Emmeline Fisher predicted, Merewether found bugger all but he did leave a copy of her poem in an urn – where it was found in the sixties by Prof Atkinson when the next tunnel that found bugger-all else was built.
It would be enormously fair and seemly that if ever a third tunnel of exploration is built, entirely obliterating the Merewether and Atkinson tunnels, and the chambers of rest of our wild forefathers are pierced yet again for a futile reason that posterity will condemn for a third time, that someone absolutely insists that the perpetrators take Emmeline's apology back in, where it belongs. May I nominate you for this task?...
|
