With clouded skies above me I do climb this winding pathway, <br />And yet I feel that I am not alone, <br />So many years have passed and yet its secrets still remain there, <br />Within that place they laid that ancient stone. <br />I look upon the rolling downs that reach into the distance, <br />And then I gaze across the mirrored sea, <br />So calm and yet disturbing for it lies a ghostly grey now, <br />As if the sailor's souls are warning me. <br /> <br />And yet I'm drawn still further by the power that it is yielding, <br />I follow those who've passed this way before, <br />As now a bitter wind does blow a fine mist from the water, <br />And creeping ever closer from the shore. <br />As over now the fields it drifts and seems so unrelenting, <br />And casts a shroud upon the open ground, <br />A winter chill descends amidst the land so unforgiving, <br />The air is hushed I cannot hear a sound. <br /> <br />I turn the corner then I see the stone before me there, <br />Then sense a restless presence drawing near, <br />I feel I am not wanted and it fills me with unease, <br />But still I carry on so full of fear. <br />And as I place my hands upon the rock so strong and mighty, <br />I close my eyes yet pictures come to mind, <br />Which fill my heart with darkness so I pull my hands away, <br />And then I leave the ancient stone behind.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-long-stone/
