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Triscombe Song

November 12, 2015

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Walk me down the drover’s road
in blazing sun and rolling mist,
walk me under twisted rows
of golden bronzing beech.

Crisping leaves and laughing crows
shaggy cows and Sunday hikers –
just walk me through this ancient
trail – to Triscombe Stone.

Skip me through this Saxon grove
and up the spiny Quantock ridge –
through blinking sun and damp-grey
fret – to crouching Triscombe Stone.

Walk me through the season’s hush
as fog enbalms the orange fall,
walk me singing back again
along the drover’s road.

We hear the march of Alfred’s men
the clash of Roman swords
faint ticking of the decades
down this gilded drover’s road.

So sing me out and walk me back
from timeless Triscombe Stone.

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2 Comments
  1. Love it Becky – I was there for every step

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