A dark wood in an ancient landscape, lit by a May day sun.
A Victorian folly; to crown these relicts with Beech trees - tall
Its ramparts now held in the beech trees fingers.
The sun hardly penetrating to the bluebell carpet below
The shadows create links to the spirits of those who once knew this place
And once called this place home; I can feel them, they are here and they are here now.
Their struggle to live and to survive; I also feel
Hembury Fort; you are a portal back to them; back to their time.
You are their place and you are their memory
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