On a Hill

On a hill, in winter, the snowdrops grew in bunches

a pure white meditation of loving, living hunches

The stranger walked up the hillside as he saw the thriving flowers

he wanted to rest for a few minutes and see the castle towers

The roots of the old tree supported the bank of green

the pretties little flowers the stranger had ever seen

A family of flowers, bending their little heads

the breeze was sighing gently as the fragrance began to spread

The stranger inhaled the fragrance

of those sentinels of luminous love

They were growing all together

as a message from God above

The tree silhouettes were black and lacking light

the skies were a cloudy grey, overlooking this ancient site

The stranger he grew silent, then began to hum a tune

soon it would be evening, he would sit and serenade the moon

The ground beneath the stranger was growing very cold

the knights were stirring memories, memories of old

This stranger was a blessing, he fell asleep upon the mound

falling into a world of dreams, but hearing each ancient sound

At dawn the stranger woke to birdsong, that hovered in the air

his body welcomed the warming of his monumental care

A robin appeared before him, singing sweet his lilting notes

the stranger's smile was welcomed,  this robin wore a coat

Eyes met eyes in rapture, the robin sang sweeter still

the stranger was replenished and gazed at Robin's bill

There was a shudder of recognition, the little Robin bore a message

the stranger appeared immortal, discovering this presage

Onlookers only saw the greening bank, full of flowering white

and the castle in the distance and the metal of the Knight

Julie

January 2026