many have passed through this ancient stone
this granite, hollowed, magic roan
stepping backwards through its centre
seven times a baby would soon venture
nine times for the ricketed child
passed through naked meek and mild
a pixy guardian seeks and cures
belief in its power endures
be there when the moon is whole
the Crick Stones power will extol
Bob Gibson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/men-an-tol/
