It All Henges Upon This

The reason it’s dark, why you can’t see, you see
is that I have kidnapped the sun.
If you want it returned then everyone listens to me.
This is what has to be done.

Within fifty miles of Weston-Super-Mare,
wherever there’s a suitable pitch,
you’ll take up your digging utensils to prepare
an embankment, within a circular ditch.

When complete I want groovy stones selected,
and hitched up with ropes for a tow,
to the inner circle, where they’ll be erected
according to the plan appended below.

A celestial observatory is the point of all this.
Well worth the price of this crime.
I’ll usher in a new age of rational bliss
and disband the druids for all time.

Ruminate

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