In Verse from the Baron by Robert Staniford

Gates of Time

Inside the gates of time there stood

a lady spinning rhymes of gold

and clutching, in her hand, a rood

whilst reaching out for tales untold.

Upon the twisted mound of fate

the lady hummed a dark lament

and called an ill wind to abate,

then cast the seeds of merriment

into the halo of the night;

they rooted, springing from the earth,

a symphony of joy and light,

absurd and wondrous, sweet new birth.

The shoots sprang up and budded there,

blooms of verse began to flower,

to make a garland for her hair,

the lady speaking words of power.

A bard reached out to hail the muse

in whispered praises of her worth,

as from his pen her words were loosed

in tales of tragedy and mirth.

Inside the gates of time there stood

a lady spinning rhymes of gold

and clutching, in her hand, a rood

whilst reaching out for tales untold.

Beat

Stale sweat and heat

smell of sweet smoke

floats and caresses senses on edge

__________mind glides

caught in casual anticipation

all eyes fixed on a point

spotlight makes the stage appear

__________empty and waiting

_____expectation hovers

__________tangible form

a void waits to be filled

_____looks for her

_________appearance

_____agile feline movement

sway to rhythmic pound

_____bass throbs a beat

_____strikes the groin

in time to her approach

body moving in

__________out

_____of sensual spotlight

dancing curves hypnotic motion

alighting on the pole to display

__________to play

_____linger for a moment

then remove the cover

__open the book

__________turn the pages

pick the poem she has chosen

_____to read

__with the beat

_____this night