They called it A Place in the land of Time
though it had no roof or door,
when many came to enter in
and tread across its floor.
There, young and old did saunter through
though none, alas, could stay,
as the purpose of A Place in Time
was to guide all to ‘the way’.
So sang the ephemeral tiles of Time,
set beneath the hungry halls,
pulsing in their vivid veins
the words of waiting walls.
There plodded Haywain travelers
past the panel in between
mumbling mute of Mount Amara
as some passed beyond the scene.