Sunrise on the Moors

A poem

On the moors, the rounding hills
Stretch beyond the palace doors;
Monolith stones like tapestries frame
The endless grass, the flowered floor.

Daybreak’s gleam, the lark’s sweet song
Lilts and chirps through morning mist;
Ancient kings stir in their graves:
The Celtic Z, the double disk.

I, the master in this place
Rise and greet the rosy dawn.
And yawning, still, I tread my land:
Her kiss breaks through; the night is gone.

The stars are chased from their high place
By sunlight’s glint and daylight’s roar;
And I, outpaced, can only seek
Those lonely tails, those stellar peaks,
While larks sing songs above the moors,
And rocky teeth let the old kings sleep
On mossy beds, on verdant floors.