PLEASE DO TAKE NOTE THAT, ALL POEMS ARE MY OWN WORK AND THUS ARE COPTWRITED, ANY PERSON ILLEGALY COPYING OR USEING THE WORK WILL BE PROSCECUTED. GREY STONE FINGERS A road a path a field nearby, with grey stone fingers that point to the sky. A guard walks by, it makes me cry.......... The y come by the car load, bus loads to On the eve of the longest day To pray or, so they say....... Fat ones, skinny ones, losers all to get pissed up and have a bawl.. "HEY!!! LOOK??? Thats where I carved my name, I was so stoned I could barely crawl"...... With knife and chisel paint pot too They climb the fence, their work to do...... Its no wonder its barred from me.............And you......BUT! Have a think!........ Can you imagine it? The moons full bright! The candles glow. The drum beats loud and the Pan Pipes blow Pagans, Witches, Druids too, on with robe and of with shoe! We circle the Alter - The stars shine bright But, none can compare with our eyes this night. The music starts and of we go! With glittering eye and twinkling toe. We EKO! EKO! to the night. Our Goddess, the moon, is in our sight. All of a sudden the Priestess shouts STOP!!!! And we all sit down, in a bit of a flop. My old heart is hammering My eyes are aglow..............Man o man can you imagine it Could it be so? JT Walker-Smith