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Poems by Jim Fulcomer

Celebrate the Solstice II

The believers, who, by night come by, to catch the orb in early sky,
as rise he must twixt blocks of stone, and perch a while on one alone
set by the wise ones on that plain, whose reasoning we can't explain.
But they knew then that that quick night, would mark the onset of long light.

In a world that marked no time, and superstition ruled, sublime,
for those in power could foretell, and hold the people in their spell.
Four thousand years have come and gone, and still the triathlons live on,
to mock the efforts of those few, who seek to solve the ambigu-
ities in Salisbury, there in a field, whose secrets, with reluctance, yield.

No Rosetta Stone exists, to help the archaeologists,
explain the mysteries that stand, in mute and mighty silence, grand.
Those of Wicca, or the Earth, can celebrate with pagan mirth,
let fears and troubles sublimate, encourage rapture, suppress hate.

When Cygnus flies in that brief night, no cruel storms and winds aright.
Summer now arrived at last, the Henge denotes that Spring has passed.
So other stone around our sphere, subscribe the passing of each year.
Amazing insights flourished then, by those who watched and noted when,
The sun and stars, could tell in part, what Mother Nature knew by heart...