rolling stones

In this the sheltered home of druids birth
Is played a symphony of mother earth
As stones wear round amid the sound
Of ever dancing whirling waters
The green woods whisper sad laments
As raining tears are heaven sent
And Druid Shades in seed await
To see the grasping greed abate
With patience only stones can know
In streams and dreams of sweetness bent
Reflective polished thoughts content
Finished surface shining brightly
Like hopes and dreams recurring nightly
As lunar currents levy toll
Recalls enthrall and thrill my soul
I still and hear the cymric waters
Rolling stones for druid daughters
Down all the hills in rills of song
Where else would druids e'er belong?

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' With patience only stones can know -- In streams and dreams of sweetness bent -- Reflective polished thoughts content '

A subject rarely aired today.. and so finely laid. Your meter's first class and yet in no way are the descriptions or feel of your post wooden or askew. I see mists rolling and the smell of damp earth.; your words have nudged by senses. Thank you.

[Terpsichore]

They stand forever in silent contemplation and condemnation of the mess this so-called 'dominant species of ours is making.

I absolutely love this poem. T

[Gandré]

oh how wonderful! I can't understand that nobody reviewed this. masterpiece, so fragile, simple and yet such a complex meaning about the transcience which is corresponding with man's age. Fantastic! Also perfect rhythm. I loved its waves.