Round Hill

She lies flat with her belly raised up
Large fecund mound in the summer sky.
House martens zig zag their way
About her catching flies
And the cawing ravens
Trace the shadows of circles
On her skin.
Nature strokes her
Shoulders while
She rests here
And the bees hum her lullabye.

Warm grass
And dandelions
Make her blanket
And the berry-barren
Sloe trees her pillow.

As she sleeps
Small people weave their way to her summit
And lovers lie atop her
Watching the clouds.

(December 2010)