"Saracen Stonehenge" is one of the many verses from my "Salisbury Tales" series.
On the edge of the Salisbury plain...
Where tanks...
Love to play...
In driving rain...
And sticky mud...
Up to your neck...
In designer plasma Crop circles...
Stands a world famous Bronze Age site...
Of double circles...
Blue-stones...
For you to adore...
Most ancient Order...
Of druids...
Keeps a midnight vigil...
On the sixth month...
Of every solar year.
Celebrating...
The midsummer's sunrise...
Is to be desired...
Neolithic earthworks...
Are just a stones throw away...
For you to play...
Upon those hot and lazy days...
Longleat House...
Is a great Elizabethan mansion...
Where the lions...
Are free to roam...
Upon the frozen tundra...
While Capability Browns...
Landscaped grounds...
Are full...
Of azaleas and Rhododendrons...
For your viewing pleasure...
Just like buried treasure...
From Cley Hill heaven...
Find...
The secret...
Lock and keys...
To the Kennet & Avon Canal...
As you climb...
Up watery hill...
Into the northgate...
Of southgate Devizes.
Ancient market town...
Full of Georgian houses...
Makes the Flemish people...
Proud of their sparkly night gowns.
If it's half timbered houses...
That lights your fire...
Then the Porch house...
In Potterne...
Is to be observed...
From your golden chariot...
Amesbury Abbey...
Is just so happy...
With Queen Guinevere...
As she marched...
Upon Vespasian's military camp...
To place...
Lancelot's steamy stamps...
Into her designer...
Gucci bag...
