Horner's Corner

A Prehistoric Camp

by on Mar.07, 2009, under poetry

It was the time of year

Pale lambs leap with thick leggings on

Over small hills that are not there,

That I climbed Eggardon.


The hedgerows still were bare,

None ever knew so late a year;

Birds built their nests in the open air,

Love conquering their fear.


But there on the hill crest,

Where only larks or stars look down,

Earthworks exposed a vaster nest,

Its race of men long flown.

Andrew Young

awds_hill_forts018

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