Summon Sorcerors
From ancient depths of myth
An incarnate joy
Where combined troubadours
Run circus rings
Where ripples run from drop
And I appear
Dealing chessboards
MET where stretch the squares
The black the white
Journey of vivid logic
To teach of life’s cause
And the opposition of fates
Begin oh tournament
It's a game

Thus it was at Goatstone Rounds
Pok first proclaimed these feiry sounds
His love of Her
His loth of war
True he hopes you will do him proud
To speak out loud
Declare beneath any tree
Your loves
For they are worthwhile
Acts live and acts inspire
And as story fires are rising higher
Make a fun that once begun
Will spread like wild about this land
Breathe a world that joyous sings
In market place where prophets
Bring their offerings
And ours for you
For is there any we can loose?


POk tells us what its all about and sets off revolutions of love beneath all and every tree of his domain settin off story fires and fun that spreads like wild
that are offered about the world we live in. It flows out like waves and tendrils spreading out from the source.
Its yer circus people jugglers and clowns, minstrels and acrobats busking the streets reaching people.
Probably what would be good is if Pok dances in the Goatstones and they travel though dimensions, and the gnomes come by one by one to form a ring (of eyes) entering into that location from their realm somewhere else. Maybe the stones become dice, or maybe a dice is pushed up for the most venerable gnome to sit on. Not sure if the should have one peace pipe or several. The line is originally 'each our pipe in hand' but maybe thats too much. I have changed it here to a councilling pipe as experiment see how it sits. I know how many gnomes you can muster yet.

Speak we gnomes
Sat, our counciling pipe to hand
On dice
Calling you to our ring of eyes
The twirl of minds wrist is our work
The slip of tricks that soar us from the mundane
In circles dream emerging
Our construction from talksome shiftstick spins
Maker, that portrays lavish dreams
And founds them here
So as we sit
We throw our glory into life
Dreams that stir from these depths alight
Bringing their fantastic visions
So hopscotch we between black and white
As dazzled we be in door's open light



ok, this section is about a council of gnomes who, we must assume, are sage and up to the moment on current affairs. The dice they sit on are big, at least 6 feet on their side. They are six sided dice with dots for numbers.

The ring of eyes is the essential point here. It is what a storyteller must achieve. To get AND GIVE and play with the focus. Also is an equality of a circle and all minds one..(in fact circles repeatedly and concentricing )
the talksome shift stick is based on the talking stick from rainbow circles
where the stick is passed round and the holder of it speaks their mind.
Here it is sort of a spinning scythe or propeller of creativity bourne from the gnomes 'construction' You are left to work out what this construction is...but
notice that i stick in a couple of down to earth words here, like 'founded'...which will be changed to 'foundationed'...also 'here' and 'sit', which indicate the location
of the ring of eyes in our real world. The place we are gathered. the sacred space.
These lavish dreams are being brought into the real world. I may need to add a word or so to earth this out enough.
Dreams alight must mean they take off, it seems into more visions. But what else can this be in a poem? And what are our visions? what do we envision?

And as we are tripping hard on this, pok plays hopscotch, like the playground game down the squares directly towards the open door of light. Others follow him.
Except here I think the door...double doors i think... are not fully, but a third open and lettin in alot of light. Pok dances up first and closes the door so only a chink of light comes through.
We have arrived at an important location. This is the 'place entrance' the threshold to the citadel.

((This is a missing detail here where pok is reticent at first to let his guests into the Pook. On the threshold he lectures his listeners on their shortcomings (he is a spacegoat of course, not human, or only a third human) This can be shown by Pok holding the door to his eager curious guests, making them have to wait while he tells the story of his birth.))

It is I Pok who speak
Who fell from Bok
To scream
At first
Then tell tales
Who calls earth She
And nestles ‘neath the old oak tree

The above short section is a whole story in itself, for this is the creation of pok.
Bok is a vast gross pshcedelic demon so out of it he cannot speak. He oozzes with potent pus and the first drop of this to fall from him causes ripples in the nothingness and the first vibration which was the voice of Bok via his more streamlimed offspurt, Pok.
THis terrible exposure causes the screams of pok, but he reconditions himself to refine these raw feelings into somethin more accessable...tales.
Pok makes it clear that he is aligned to the Goddess and that he is somewhat of a hedger.
We are soon to be taken into the heart of the pook. The listeners are still waitin at the doors, which maybe have the oak tree on them that pok has fallen aslleep
beneath...dunno
At first Pok only permits a glimpse 'Shows y through his sparrows eye' I imagine like he is lookin through an 'eye' made by making the shape of one between your thumb and first finger and peekin through it.
'Draw now near and understand' ...he still hasnt let them in!!
Now a funny thing happens, the door gets called a gate, then it becomes 2 hills. These are regular smooth roundball hills, not two high, with a cleft between them. Not exactly like a generous pair of breasts yet remaniscent of such a sight. Probably some seriously odd weather is happenin behind them. We hear the cittern, the moon adds wierdness and yes, a storm where the diamond rain is fallin on us all.

So now we stand at place entrance
Where Pokke sometimes does he dance
Shows y through his sparrow's eye
His intimate bower
It's walls and towers
Murals and flowers
Balustrades, a rose and eldern crosses
Bracken, briar and moistly mosses
Courts within a garden glade
I'll show you round, it is ok
I have kept safe an ancient land
Draw now near and understand
That I will let you in my gate
Between two hills the worlds relate
Hear the cittern's magic drone
Feel the pull, moon's magic moan.
Feeling tears of diamond rain
Falling on our brows again

Now open door you star clad guide
Let us the magic dragon ride

....the doors are flung wide
and dimension travel, dragons and giant space worms offer their backs to riders

Those two hills
The Goatstone Rounds
Are places where we make our sounds
Are bowers, you should understand
Were worms of earth do song the land
We see the landscape we have travelled lighting up along the leylines where we have made songlines.


And for Pok
True, no sword
But Elfin silver gauntlet drew
And down it threw.
Here is faith a riddle round
A pooka place a peace palace
Where worlds of words entreat
A dodman root
In glades of games of life we meet
These will echo down the wastes
To true Kingdoms
Earthheart’s prize of timely wealth
And each a ley through stones old throat
This ancient land in stars so cloaked
Is blessed with poklamations croak
A trumpet for a new dawn’s hope

.....this is the climax of the show, where Pok throws down the gauntlet to minds willin to go on from here. A pook is made here,the 'peace palace/gay marquee'...(just like at a festi etc.) a pledge for himself and out for others, a call that itself is an inner or outer temple formed from a declaration such as this. All it is made of here is words and games.
A dodman is an old word for a snail. The snail's eye stalks are like the geomancer's two rods, hence the ley energy movin through the stones etc..
TRumpets herald stuff, so it'S like a fanfare. They smash our minds preconceptions like the sea crashing against the rocks and cliffs and we are eo_deathed into the next location, a fully far gone zone. maybe also temporally connected to the Goatstone Rounds.


It is the Buddha’s will
And we sit with him
Within circles concentric
The five point star
And lotos fall
How star wondered
Patterns
On Taleteller’s brow
Sacred diamonds or Egyptian curls
Take us there
Remind us
Somehow
This is how we do it

....this is a pretty deep trip. this is the barbury ring crop circle stuff i sent you that got involved with the wisdom of buddha speaking though tales from antiquity, egypt and the stars. Like concentric floating in space with that crop circles and other geometric images, the pentacle and petals if you can.
It is the cosmic node of knowing , the seat of lion kings, the initiatory self dissolver that sends you to your zodiac mother and gives you your next real name.
'Taleteller'S brow' is the forehead of a bard.

And you have been led by tragedies first prankster
Come to where Pokke old crow now bows
His stripy body pulsing with other lights
Through his eye sparrowhawk spies
Who undefined and of no fleshes but voice only
Has described a glorious ark
Which, it is agreed, it is assured
Will sail you through new senses
To see truths in strange verse
That will remain when spell is broken
Mend an earth when words are spoken

Who does work now crisis come
With gourd and voice and beaten drum?
With Deva, Sylph and Dragon King
Flaming Centaurs and wild dancers
Weave and wield
A cloth where is none
Weave and wield
Take to the field
With love magics
To break a sterner enchantment


the last 2 sections seem to explain themselves clearly enough...it is Pok bowing to his listeners telling them of the efficacious nature of what he has described or constructed with words that are his only flesh. He is kind of dematerialising.

Not offering anything in the way of material help, it's all going on inside, pok does ask who will take up this cause to work with such devic forces to make a fabric out of nothing, but to wield this, which is what one does with a weapon. To go out in the world' take to the field with these love magics we have found here.