Most of us sat stiffly

In the Cardy Reading Room, 

Chaired, 

On the soft green carpet 

Under the Gothic points, 

Coated with arms 

In Victoria's, domain 

Hands, holding hands, or elbows 

Or chins: 

Soft, veined, boney, muscled, 

Stuccatoed with brown 

Waited to applaud for flamenco. 

To the rhythm of flamenco 

The bright violets on the window ledges 

Strummed away 

The cloud gray gloom of the afternoon, 

And hands clapped loudly for flamenco. 

Across the library in another hall 

Sharp noses 

Digging into long 

Boxes of cards 

Pointed - to the rhythm of flamenco 

It all began when Victoria 

At three 

Went up to her grandfather 

Clock

And stopped the time.