The hedges curve reaches a sunlit device.
Hedgehog stakes bristle beneath a water blue sky.
Mendip's long ridge forms a back drop wide.
To lush soft pastures, waterlogged dry.
A dark raised shield boss mounted green.
A shadowed nail upon its crown.
The mass of sea grey clouds serene.
Cut through with harsh light piercing down.
Diagonal threads of tree line ditches.
Warp and weft upon the marshlands.
March for miles like wooden stitches.
Tapestried with rush and reed bands.
Rising domed from the ocean of grass.
Like some ancient green leviathan.
No fields upon its' arching mass.
No foot print of cultivated slopes upon.
Small dotted hamlets bright in the sunshine.
Are soft grey in the storm shadow.
And cling to the road lines.
Between orchard, corn and fallow.
So here are the familiar farms.
Imposed upon an older scene.
An ancient Celtic call to arms.
A thrust for Avalon unseen.
