(Words and music by and © Talis Kimberley, 1990)

I am faced with three doorways, who knows what they hide?
I am driven to unlock the secrets inside
They are patterned with gold like some lost book from Kells
And I hear as I touch them the sweet sound of bells.

All gilded and blue like impossible skies
Across which improbable cherubim fly
Three doorways, three catches, three windows behind
Three moments to wonder at what I might find –

Brass candlestick, lamplight, white roses, red wine?
The sweet scent of apples, the reason for rhyme?
Warm velvet, sharp satin, the bitterest silk
Which cup holds the poison, which holds only milk?

And here is the child who keeps White Rabbit time
By the smallest of sundials on a daisychain line
In his bright waist-coat (want-coat) whose pockets are lined
With half-eaten minutes, and the fabric of time

I look to my left before opening the door,
The poison is spilt, petals lay on the floor,
The candle goes out but in one glance I see
That the body which drank and fell lifeless is me –

I look to my right and the child has fled
The sun has gone in and the sky is blood red
The daisies lie closed between dead rotting cores
Of minutes whose like I may soon have no more

I chill at the image and tremble in shock
My hand falls away from the door’s golden lock
I reach for the lesser and close them as well
And hear as I do so the sweet sound of bells

Ever and always the sweet sound of bells…

A Little Bit About 'Triptych'...

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