Here to the holy well on pilgrimage
Came on an August Sunday the devout,
The youthful and decrepit, those about
To marry, and those wed to parentage
Expecting to be raised. Here was the stage
Set on this hump-backed hill, where deep-fed spout
Gave of its living self, even when drought
Parched the green earth, the thirsty pasturage.
Crosses that once were clearly etched and stood
Symbols of rule divine, have lost their spell,
And now are curious stones, bereft of good.
Oh, that the power of which these saints could tell
Were once again to speak of brotherhood
And we had ears to hear, all would be well.
Mona’s Herald 25.4.61