24 May 2012
In orchard days, before the trees were gone Where ancient summers lap like old mulled wine We languished in the lee of Albion Too foolish, or too wise to count the time
We listened to Iceni drums beating Above, below, the blue bough broken sky We hushed to the Roman Legions marching Emerald, gold and lapis lazuli
You were lithe and curved as the long bow yew With your hair ensanguined by the moon Your silver skin was a scimitar blade Softly honed by the Saracen moon
While Coeur de Lion deep in the darkness Flashed a sword at the faltering stars
Tom May
Another of my friend's poems that i think should be read.
Albion • Opuss № I