I know a secret place where time stands still, <br />It lies beyond a five-barred gate, enclosed <br />By hawthorn hedges heaped up high with drifting snow <br />In maytime when the barn owl glides, pale ghost, <br />Above the grasses. Here come timid deer <br />To drink beside the reed-fringed pond, it is <br />The haunt of fox and hare, a haven for <br />The hunted, safe home for mole and water vole. <br />At dusk you’ll see white ghost moths dance above <br />The swaying rushes. Not far away from here <br />There is a place where others, too, may dance— <br />A druids’ grove of seven trees that grow <br />In a magical ring, in a sacred circle of seven. <br />I’ll give you their names, then when the next full moon <br />Sends down its silvery light you may join the dance <br />To celebrate our love for good Mother Earth. <br />Here in the ring the tallest tree is the cherry, <br />Then comes the crab, the copper beech, the rowan, <br />The stripling oak, the tree of streams, the alder, <br />And queen of all, that lovely small-leaved lime, <br />So let’s link arms, and sing and dance, be merry. <br />Let the billow roll, let the wave of life uplift us <br />For it is Life itself we celebrate <br />In this magical place beyond the five-barred gate.<br /><br />Pete Crowther<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beyond-the-five-barred-gate/
