A contest absconded with three new poems of mine. A caveat warned not to publish them anywhere, not even in a blog. Instead, today's poem repeats one set in England, a delightful country to visit this time of year. Also, in honor of my "English" grandson's 21st birthday today.
Stonehenge at Dusk
Raven scores
alight for vespers, chatting
as they settle on lintels
draped across shoulders
of blue stone monoliths
dragged from faraway Wales.
Placed with an eye to sanctify
the sun - that wanderer
in bitter northern climes -
the ancient boulders resonate
with evensong even now
a cantos across flaxen fields.
Marilyn Aschoff Mellor
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