Bees dance around steadfast violet blooms,
which flutter in the summer breeze and
adorn your ancient stones like amethyst.The river trickles;
The birds chirp and chirrup
a fanfare whilst the occasional caw
of the midnight crow echoes in the falling towers.
Two trees stand sentry.
You are stark yet beautiful in your cloak of purple blooms:
A golden carpet lying at your feet.Are you lonely there on the Eden hillside –
Or are you content with your piece of English heaven?
How many footfalls have you heard, whispers of fabric brushing on the ground?
What laughter, or what cries in pain have echoed in your long forgotten hallways?
Earthly fingers trace in awe your lichen covered walls;
cameras click, voices whisper supposingly.
Sleep, gentle giant
and dream of knights
and ladies and the past.