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