Chanctonbury Ring

Violet Frequencies

A few years ago, I visited Chanctonbury Ring in Sussex for the first time. It is a haunted, beautiful place. While I was sitting there alone, I wanted to try to capture its peculiarly charged atmospheres, and wrote the following poem.

The archaic wind

Is a protecting veil

There is nothing to see here

You turn around with a start

She grabs you

She shocks you

With her verdant charge

Violet frequencies

A maelstrom just above your head

Siamese stones awakening

A cacophony of spirits

Who speak as one

Twilight cold grips

A Hawk stops time

Then drops

Into the stillness below