I often dreamt with much ado,

Of that mystic palace called Xanadu,

With girdled walls of ice and stone,

Forged with might, by flesh and bone.

So alone I trekked with much adieu,

To this distant land of Xanadu,

My heart rejoiced with quickened pace,

To reach this wondrous, lonesome place.

Upon the roads of meadows green,

Unto the roads as yet unseen,

I ventured on in twilight hue,

Unto the lands of Xanadu.

And yet faint voices bore my name,

Obliquely calling all the same,

Like a distant relic to ancient times,

They lingered hid, in ancient rhymes.

Quickly did the peaks avail,

The rocky crags, of the mountain trail,

The ominous mist of ice and dew,

That hid the land of Xanadu.

What madness gripped my fearful heart?

Alone I journeyed from the start,

And found myself where angels tread,

Amidst the land, of the icy dead.

What drove me on, I cannot say,

The fear of death, or adventures’ sway,

And yet I tread, with thrift anew,

To the untouched path, of Xanadu.

I traversed fields, I once not durst,

And climbed on ledges, fit to burst,

I sojourned through a crevice blue,

In search of elusive Xanadu.

And then at last, by good measure won,

Reprieve was finally cast upon,

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Upon a field of snowy dunes,

I crossed a path of mystic runes.

Beyond the windswept plains of doubt,

The roots of Xanadu did sprout,

But in my feast, forgotten haste,

Lay me fore the arctic waste.

Foully did I call its name,

Then cursed it twice and called the same,

Before the frozen world of tundra,

My life would end, in trivial blunder.

Then from the mists of Xanadu,

There grew a wispy whitish hue,

That from this place of paradise,

Grew endless steps of clearest ice.

The failing light did press my hand,

As I upon the steps did stand,

Wracked with fear I knew as much,

That my only trail could be found by touch.

But those that lived in Xanadu,

Knew my plight and what to do,

Then shaded by his colours seven,

The steps reached out to the heights of heaven.

And as I stood upon the breach,

The howling winds around did screech,

Would I be thrown and torn asunder,

Forever lost in the world down under.

And with each step the sound was lost,

The steps alight repelled the frost,

No wind or weather, cold or damp,

Could force this tempest on this ramp.

Weary were the steps that led,

Beyond the threshold of the dead,

Around the wind did curse me just,

That I had bettered its sinful lust.

Darkness fell with fearful fright,

The wind, the dark, gave no respite,

And yet the voices in my head,

Began to clear, each step I tread.

And urged me on through endless flights,

Each step I drew, grew greater heights,

That when I turned around to see,

The night eternal looked back at me.

The morrow’s morn befell a scene,

That only God and I had seen,

All ways round a sea of blue,

And at its depths a rocky hue.

The distant shore where sunlight rose,

Bequeathed a crown of golden prose,

And though it lapped, far measure flung,

The warmth it bore, a new day sung.

And I upon this world above,

Were greeted by a lonesome dove,

And in his clasp a laurel ring,

Flowered with petals, from summer or spring.

And as the sun disturbed the sky,

With brilliance of its golden eye,

I searched the heavens that rose above,

For Xanadu, my one true love.

Behold the visage that I found,

Beyond belief, yet so profound,

The mystic realm so long construe,

That jewel that was both Xanadu.

My eyes befell what none could see,

A dome of perfect symmetry,

Girdled by walls, of impenetrable ice,

And tiers of piers, that numbered thrice.

And swirling on a sea of cloud,

It made no noise, both soft or loud,

Yet clung, like a bird, upon the breeze,

That deftly assails, the air to seize.

Lazy did my eyes so prey,

On the light, that brought my night to day,

For none could curb or swift undo,

The love that was my Xanadu.

My heart, my soul, my one true being,

Climbed the pittance left, without unseeing,

But trance like in its ordained quest,

Lest the vision fade at another’s behest.

Numb I stood, at this phantom abode,

Like a ghostly shadow, on the air it rode,

And though it glimmered from a distance like ice,

The closer I stood, the less colour did splice.

Unto the threshold I beseeched aloud,

For someone to answer both stark and proud,

And show me admittance, long since forsook,

For each place I visaged, drew a sealed look.

Behold a door, of rubescent wood,

Beset my eyes, right where I stood,

And slowly opened, with mystical rite,

To Xanadu’s most mythical site.

I lingered with a hesitant doubt,

Until a voice brought me to route,

A man not young, but speckled with age,

Drew me on to the marbled, mysterious stage.

‘Come close and see,’

‘What none with light,’

‘Dare venture be,’

‘Till last drop’s flight.’

‘A cryptic message, ‘tis meant to be,’

‘But what are words but mockery,’

‘Come close and see, what is to see,’

‘Before all turn, to rockery.’

‘Be kind good sir, I meant no harm,’

‘It was my stir, to false alarm.’

‘Your castle just, your castle free,’

‘Lies born upon a cloud of sea.’

‘What begs the part to play the fool,’

‘That my city lies on airy stool.’

‘Hesitate no more, and vanquish new,’

‘That which holds, thy bold sinew.’

Six months later I trekked, boldly new from Xanadu,

Until I found the Moon of Blue,

Alone and hidden, high in its spire,

Lived a world untouched by earthly ire.

A cast, adrift, lulled Shangri-la…..