Waiting Caern

~ The Waiting Caern ~ By ~ Tattle Bogal ~


The Waiting Caern waits.

Still standing stones.

 Waiting for Eternity.

Upon Nevern hinterland.

A Monumental convergency.



Once cradled reverentially.

Upon rolling hills perpetually.

Beneath angels gazing adoringly.

Collectively from crowning rockery.

Set bejewelled from ancient times.

High to the eye climbing escarping.

Cresting escaping ascending.

Ley laden landscape.

In Angelic stone.


The eternal tomb waits.

Stones standing still.

Prehistorically pirouetting endlessly.

Upon Celtic heartland.

Neo-stone weathering ceaselessly.

 Perpetually incessantly timelessly.

Deformity externally permanently.



Reborn for modernity.

Across sweeping hills eternally.

Beneath a Sun raising Heirs belovedly.

In forgotten ancient ceremony.

Set weaving tribal vines.

Rising upon raised ridged verdancy.

Cresting creases reclining.

Leyline laden landscape.

Alive in stone.


The forever Caern waits.

Stilted shadows stilling.

Mystical metaphysical demonical.

Across Never-land emergently.

Enigmatically presently emphatically.

  Turning hissing upon Sun’s spit.



Resurrected antiquity.

Slides forever over Never-ley.

Beneath stones sunken assembly.

In primordial proximity.

Weighed down in Neolithic times.

Entombed earthbound purposefully.

Suppression containment concealment.

Ill-laden lays ley landscapes.

Neath seven principle stones.


Photography By Dewin Nefol:



9 thoughts on “THE WAITING CAERN

    1. Hey Sue,

      ‘Thank you very much,’ says I.
      Tattle Bogal from Skye.
      The Isle of Eagles.
      Kingdom of Flying Kings.
      And Black Cullin peaks.
      Skye Is no mere claw.
      Or lobster shaped confusion.
      Or obstinate profusion.
      Or protrusion of Celtic Isles.
      But an Eagle wing expanding.
      Flick tipped feathers fanned.
      Soaring high o’er Celtic Lands.
      I see this Nevern sky on Skye.
      Pale set often clings.
      To Cullins black ledge.
      Where only Eagles dare.
      Here where shadows dare slip.
      Slide hide. Shade.
      Reborn afoot stones.
      Weighing heavily.
      Set carefully.
      Without sunlight.
      Here shadows thrive.
      Alive ‘neath stones.
      With no Eagles soaring.
      Taming twisting and turning.
      Hissing afoot of stones.
      Once buried.
      With no sunlight.

      Where are the Eagles tormenting shadows now?

      Gratefully remerging since 1916.

      With gratitude Sue Dreamwalker.

      Namaste 🙂

      Tattle Bogal
      (Raven’s 12)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. And how might I follow that? Thank you so much Sue. Yours is a very kind and generous comment indeed…words warmly appreciated, gratefully accepted, and enthusiastically treasured here for always. Thank you.

        Namaste Drummer, Dreamwalker 🙂

        DN and Tattle Bogal
        (Raven’s 12)

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey Ginni,

      With gratitude for your visit and kindly comment. I am delighted by your choice of lines, thank you, and by your readership and support. Both very welcome and encouraging. Both warmly appreciated. Thank you Ginni.

      Would it be enquiring to ask if you had visited Pentre Ifan? I imagine a treat for someone spinning words and tined tales as you do. It is a breath-taking location. Profound in ancientness, spelled with mystery, dancing within Bluestone, a court-tomb overlooked by Carn Ingli (“Hill of Angels”). Take a camera, sturdy footwear, warm clothes and relish wonder if you go.

      Thank you so much for acknowledgement and generosity in your words.

      Namaste 🙂

      Tattle Bogal
      (Raven’s 12)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Hey Ginni,

        Should you go, you will not be disappointed. Immersion within the rolling Preseli landscape is enchanting. Perhaps take a sleeping bag, stay the night , wake with dawn rolling in on the estuary below. It is a timeless tireless fantasy.

        Namaste 🙂


        Liked by 1 person

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