Julian Cope presents Head Heritage

Best wishes for the megameet! Just for mood, here's one about the Winter Solstice and fear of mortality. Lovely. Three cheers and we're off...

Dusk. The brush of a hare, in flight, flicks the long grass
in a gust of fast-fading foot beats. Time’s curtain parts
and on the hill bulls roar through bronze trumpets and rattles
click, fertile in the writhing flames - dancing thorn-shadow.
What masque is this? Abandon. Whitened faces and rough
breathing blow a swirling cloud to obscure it again.
Saturnalia. A turning word on the wind.

Storms leave a fossil in a pliable mind
and slick, stiff, five fingers grope, grey in the mist.
A terrible Titan lurks under the hand.
Inhumed on the hillside, he feels my flesh drawing close
and hungry horns oscillate the land.


Often megaliths look like a tip to the whole that the ground has covered over and five stone circles can then look like fingertips reaching out. Stay clear of the fog at Avebury!

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Best wishes for the megameet!