The castle is a place where poets dwell.,
Where each can cast their wondrous spell.
From the turrets high to the dungeons deep
From each portcullis to the central keep.
Its powerful walls keep foes at bay.
They keep us safe from day to day.
The knights are brave and fight with zeal.
In armored suits and swords of steel.
The poets live as all men should.
Side by side in brotherhood.
The magic of rhyme is all they seek
From modern tongue to ancient Greek.
The castle echoes with the sound of joy,
And haunting words from man and boy.
The maidens fair who live within
Pen words of love and carnal sin.
For each one here there is a place
To release the soul from its enclosed space.
With words of mirth and sorrow both.
And witches spells of evil oath.
The castle grows from day to day
And people come from far away.
But once inside these walls of Grey,
They know that they are here to stay.
Their words are all that leave this place,
Their souls the castle shall embrace.
So in our quest for perfect poem
We call this place our sonnets home.
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(Just teasing you Mike. I know you were going for the rhyme. At least I think so. 
)
