Through the mist torn shrouds of night we gather at Hound Tor, gaze upon
the moors. A line of dark trees against a grey sky, a stone bridge, pub with
a creaking inn sign...Dartmoor holds its secrets well. Corbies screech in the
wind and spells are heard as echoes of the first rain...and brambles grow high
on the lanes. There in the far off hills the sounds begin and the wild hunt comes
close to your door. Robin in the Hood is waiting to the north along the kings highway
as the green man watches the beating of hearts. There is a crossroads and a gibbit where
a body hangs...mandrake grows beneath it and shimmers in the light of the stars.
Will you meet the dark man on the horse at midnight who uses pistols for his gain?
Or will you traverse time to haworth and and the wild boar inn? Or perhaps farther away,
to Robin lying cloaked in the forest...gog magog and apple twined, avebury and silbury...
when will my true love dine on russets ripe as rosy lips? When will my love come to me,
cast the riddles back and see owls beckon the moon to shatter the earth with dreaming
as time slips further away.
