The Stairs Of Caprice

[billy]

Away in the woods, a winding path stood.
A staircase, ascending to somewhere.
These flights of steps, these flighty stairs,
I wandered, leads me where?
the stanza feels a little forced the two flights and the end rhyme

Cross the Threshold of Yesteryears,
to the Grand Porticoes of Tomorrow.
Braced by Pillars of Virtue’s Tears,
and the heartstrings of sorrow.
mostly the things mentioned are intangibles,
some solid images would be better used.

Behold!
Its golden welcome stands sublime,
The Temple of Anamnesis.
Afterthoughts, suspended in time.
at present questions are being posed but

Neath its cornice Cove of Wonder,
bares the winged Sphere of Athor.
The crest of the primordial mother,
whose legends, myths and lore,
suckled upon her shore.
at present we have christian and egyption concepts but no substance.

Cloaked in the shadows of lost and found,
Lures the Labyrinth of Jareth.
Where endless tunnels of roundabouts,
and pitfall drops, abound.
it's a struggle to connect the religions with the goblin king

Lose yourself in the Chamber of Hushed,
the Archives of Anonymity.
Here ancient stories are whispered,
in unspoken secrecy.

Roam the Rooms of Riddles, with bolted doors, unsolved. i like this line
Pirouette down the Spinning Ballrooms, and this one, a strong image we can get our teeth into
and dance, dance, dance, on the polka-dotted floors.
the rhyme has gone? but this so far is my favourite verse.

Wait up by the Room of Impatience,
or behind the “rooms to grow”.
Listen in the Room of Silence,
that echoes “I don’t know..” lewis carrollish

Stray up, along the Corridor of Sacred Passage,
Pass the roaring Halls of Fame.
Or Down the Avenue of Bane Knowledge,
Walled, in whimpering shame.

Ingress pride and honor, climbs up the Turrets of Conceit.
Spiraling down vainglorious, stumbled potholes of deceit.

Out onto the garden, strewn wild, with reckless dreams,
Misled tall and overgrow, are the weeds of illusive schemes.

Beware! Beware! Up and down the stairs!

Enter the Galleries of Phantom Faces,
meet faes in petticoat silks and laces.
Statuette Busts of Prophetic Sages,
of heroes and villains, down the ages.
Caricatures of man, creatures from Pan.

Homes of strangers feigned familiar, mystic dens quite peculiar!
Covens of Aragon, Crystal Realms of Paragon,
Phoenix nests and dragon lairs, even sanctuaries,
to abandoned teddy bears.

Away in the woods, a winding path stood.
A staircase, ascending to nowhere.
These flights of steps, these flighty stairs of promise-
I now know, leads somewhere.

It beckons a choice -
Crossroads of childhood or a jaded voice.

I know who I am and I know my heart,
As sure as Pied Piper, piped the portals apart.

I’m holding the key,
Unbarring the gate,
Up the flighty steps of fancy.

I’m late! I’m late! Not a moment’s tarry,
to my rendezvous with fate.
Up the steps, I shall venture with ease,
with a hop skip and jump,
up the stairs of caprice.

i think there's too much going on and would like to see two, perhaps three poems being created from this one. it has a feel of Labyrinth about it, (the bowie version) but it's too heavy to represent that. it does fit the title, in that it's unpredictable. meter would also improve the flow but first, i think you should find the heart of the poem and get it beating.

thanks for the read,