Bones of Rainbows



                These are the stones,

            Where hooded scavengers

              Each day pick apart the

                 Bones of rainbows,

                 The distances that

               Halted the march of

         Empire’s greedy ambition;

             That defined a nation,

      The place where the comeback

            That ended in nought,

     Began to generate excitement.

           But the breathing here,

      The tales that were born here

     and weave, like treacle smoke,

     In and out of lost eagle winds

     And wool-hung rushes were


            Worth it all …

            Worth it all

      And so much more.


24/5/2013 (Birdoswald Fort)

Photosources: Top photo:

Second photo:

6 thoughts on “Bones of Rainbows

  1. birchpoet says:

    What a title!!! You certainly can turn a phrase, my friend. I loved this one. 🙂

  2. Sam Han says:

    beautiful 🙂

  3. beeseeker says:

    Thank you both for your support and kind words. Of course – being human – I am happy to take some credit for the piece, but am truly never sure where the words actually come from: I love playing with the meaning and order of words, but somehow they usually tumble together during a car journey or a sit-a-moment time following whatever I noticed that inspired the thinking.
    In this case spending an hour on Hadrian’s Wall after a long drive to a stopover (on the way to the Isle of Skye).

  4. Heart cannot be separated in this~Very intricately weaved… magnificent !

  5. wisejourney says:

    Lovely lovely

  6. assia7 says:


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