I passed here often when young, tired and bored
after another long day at the strand
and never looked past the gate, or did and
saw only cattle rubbing against a post.
It would be thirty years before I knew
of the cobwebs spun in the morning dew.
Very nice Mr g.
You probably have a particular stone in mind but when I read your poem I couldn't help thinking of the London Stone. There are some really excellent posts on the London Stone here - http://www.themodernantiquarian.com/site/635/london_stone.html And this one, in the context of Meg Poems, which was posted by fitzcoraldo on TMA more than four years ago -
A short excerpt from William Blake's Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion.
"They groan'd aloud on London Stone
They groan'd aloud on Tyburn's Brook
Albion gave his deadly groan,
And all the Atlantic mountains shook."
The accompanying notes say the following;
"The ancient stone in the east central part of London and the site of public execution in the western part form a London Stonehenge, a place of druidical sacrifice where Albion is tortured."