Warehousing History
Tis there upon the Tor
the ruins of a watchtower ancient and forlorn
amid howling of the storm I swore
I heard the eerie wail of a bygone battlehorn
Was that shadowy forms of men upon the wall
or memories set free
in answer to a now forgotten battle call
and I but chanced to see
There under the greening grass
lay swords and men and hopes now past
who dreamed of some fair lass
now entomb by sod and held ever fast
Under the silent silver moon
below the wind ripped clouds in fury
fate plays a wind voiced tune
and passes on to other places in a hurry
Warehoused amid the ruins they lay
their time of rest goes on
and nothing mortal man may say
will speed that final dawn
Wind scored rocks and stones a Keep may make
but time levels all in its steady flow
equallity for all things here for time's sake
as lives come and then turn and go
Oh my, this is haunting and eerie, sad and fabulous, in other words. So very rich in imagery.
One for Selected Readings.