Window on a time, now so long ago,
From the castle keep, look down to below.
The stone is carved, in patterns so grand,
High on the hill, vantage over the land.
Window of a place, long since now forgot,
A time of knights, of bailey and motte.
The stone hand crafted, stone masons of old,
Built with great purpose, but exposed and cold.
Window on a castle, we look with awe,
The stairs we travel, through the great door.
A Castle in ruins, with wall all around,
Such a commanding place, that we have found.