FALLING

CLAIRE 
A circle of stones, greets me, 
Mist all around like a shroud,
A band of ancient warriors,
Standing so tall and proud,
As I venture into that circle,
The stones begin to scream,
Am I caught in some weird ritual,
Or trapped in a terrifying dream?

Then suddenly I’m falling,
Tumbling through space
I feel as if I’m travelling 
To a very different place.

Now I find myself surrounded,
By a horde of kilted men,
Must be the cast of an historic movie,
Filming in this Highland Glen,

But no, 

It seems that I’d been falling,
To an age long, long ago,
For those clansmen brandish weapons,
Clearly not for show.

At first this seems enthralling,
But this feeling doesn’t last,
As I realize that I could be,
Ensnared forever in the past.