Down Somerset way during May,
on the way to where Arthurs castle remains.
Where cow parsley in abundance
reigns the verges of the roads and lanes.
The tall standing of it commands
the eyes and spirits attention,
to drink the full of it.
Till the heart is drunken.
While standing on the castles hill.
Eyes and spirit meet sweeping
planes rolling far beyond distance.
Felt like time had closed her doors.
The south-westerly wind blew her cold.
Clouds came so low that touching
seemed a stretch away.
While I stood vast and still
I also stood on Tara’s hill.
Saw it one with Avalon.
I knew the holding of the golden ray.
The ancient royalty of these lands.
Kept promise to remain.
A prayer.
A long time said was heard and returned
greater and beyond the asking of it.
These islands one and the other
united in my heart.
Note: King Arthers Castle, North Cadbury, Somerset.
Hill of Tara, Ireland : Isle of Avalon, England
The Golden Ray
2005 ©