Hermitage Castle

Great fortress of grey stone you stand serene

And calmly you survey these blood-washed hills,

And when I dare to watch you, standing still,

Are shadows of the past still to be seen?

Oh, fortress stone, whose roots go long and deep,

Do you brood on the tragedies you knew?

Do you shed tears to stand on grass like dew

For those who died by sword, and next you sleep?

When tourists walk around your time worn walls

Do you desire to tell them of your past?

Disturb their smiling mood with harsh war’s blast

Of blood and gore, and ghostly funeral palls?

Or have old wounds been healed by years now gone,

So that you stand content in living on?

© C P Brooks 28/09/07