Steep green turfed pudding
summit ringing terraces
slopes carved by sheepen hooves,
local springs, winter born, fill a surrounding pool.
Built near ancestral dead, venerable springs,
the great stone circles
and an ancient way once trodden by mammoth.
The largest winter hill and the last,
Silbury still haunts and surprises.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
This great last monument of the Stone Age in England is not far from where I live, and continually fascinates me. Image from and further information at heritageaction
The Cheesesellers Wife 
Beautiful words so well composed and what a landscape of greens
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It must be fascinating to actually live near such ancient monuments! (I’ve always wanted to visit such places – especially Stonehenge.)
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The entire area around Stonehenge is full of stone age monuments, and tourists miss them all including this amazing man-made hill.
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I can only imagine the vibes you must pick up there. Must be a powerful place!
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It feels like it is.
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A great poem ! The stone age fascinates me.
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Me too!
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I love the “green turfed pudding” and “sheepen hooves.” This place must make you turn quiet once in a while, trying to hear the old voices.
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Yes, it does!
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Very nice
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I like this very much, Kim. There’s a magisterial tone in the language of this poem that is exactly right for the place and it’s awe-inspiring presence. 😊
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Thank you John, much appreciated.
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Excellent!!!
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