The Door

Long toed the green ones stand
Its inlets deep, abetting land
Neath rounded tor in narrow shores
Stand the crusty rain-bowed doors

Watchful markers keep it close
Twinned, one opens to the one who knows
Abutting solitary candid sands
Know it by its oriferous bands

Grey clouds turn it neutral brown
Misted away when it is pelting down
You see it only with sun bathed glare
Quintinted in co-mingled layer

Seven hues it bears in midnight sun
Its silver purple showing how it is done
Come to the gate of another age
Bringing the gifts of the mage…

Treasures it promises unknown within
Tongues to words plainly no more kin
Holding back your heart’s bidding in vain
Even as your well wishers call you insane.
Once your spirit has heard this call
All that is yours is in the thrall.

(This is set up as a puzzle, and will be a part of the novella… coming one day)

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