The Seven Jewels of Calvert
By Terry Hawke

... The seven jewels of Calvert have been cloaked and masked by timeless
and incomprehensible mythology. Amongst those fortunate to experience the
seven jewels was a free-spirited warrior-maiden of fire, whose very soul
endured the penetrative powers of these jewels. If you seek these jewels,
then first you must overcome and acknowledge your own personifications and
worldly facets, and then - only then, can these emotional jewels be sought
...

101: Picture in your mind a layer of flesh and gold, then fortune favours
the palatial bold. Touch the facet of a mirrored shape, but careful now this
image moves as if cloaked in a cape. The second's tick for a helmet buried
in the sands of a gate, unearth this facet is your fortuitous fate.  

102: The hand's of time doth stroke the helmet of silver with a glorious
silken feather; your eyes are the truth which have been bound in glass and
leather. As the seconds of forever move for all to dance, look closely as
the hand with eleven fingers emerge and did en-trance.

103: The future dawned for all to see, as the machinations of men did
formally decree. The world did open for the spirit of the age, as foretold
by the gaslight shadows of a glowing shimmering sage. The amber drinks of
power and might, do render all to squabble with an un-earthly fight.

104: The coldness of steel can shine like armour on a clear warm day, so who
are we to debate these creatures with feet of clay. The android within us
all can ask "The dawn of robotica hath come", but your replica replies in
fits of unbound passion, "Not often, but with some".

105: Those who were born to go on a silver cloud are free to call, what's
required is to dive and drift to mindless and thoughtless fall. Reach out
and sense the rush of a speeding train, no matter how your innards scream
and sear your brain.

106: A phoenix rises to claim its throne of well-earned fame, but all to
quickly this rainbow fades to a cruel, cruel shame. What once were castles
of stone and mighty in norse-like gold, as the ships of grief and sorrow
claim all that they have sold.

107: Life evolves as once was held in the palm of your hand; it quickly now
dissolves into liquid metal sand. The karma of the long-lost warrior of
infinite adroitness, will, by the time I return to terra-earth, lay in
elysian fields of all that was proud in his uniqueness.