The tourist Bobby's bus halted on route
A303 in Salisbury, England. From a
distance I watched the giant monument
Of tourist wonder.
Stone upon stone, a city of its own,
stones huge in their making.
A sight that mystified me and sifted
my thoughts to the stony of human-
kind's hearts that erects monuments
of: crime, hate, and death, where fragments
of doom holster their destiny.
Otherwise, Stonehenge tolls a
bell of virtue that renders victory
to our endeavor.
The Bobby lead us across A303 to get a
clearer view,
and I wondered----
what those prehistoric men were like,
that venture up the Avon on a raft
with stones two thousand years ago.
Were their spirits clad with a will
mighty as their stones?
Stones of their erection that has mystified
the mightiest of humankind.
And I thought----
as there I stood, turning the pages of
history's mystery book, a book I never
dreamed of touching.
