Through the eyes of a new member
The Club, a bastion of English manners and civility;
Rests in the centre of London’s Regency.
A magnet for thoughtful cultured people
Gathering together, debating listening learning.
Aspiring for better results, reforming.
Stone steps lead to the heavy front door
Then another few carpeted helped by padded rail
Where the doorman greets you at the top with a smile.
Great marble columns ascend to the library level.
In the centre is a Victorian mosaic floor.
Red dimpled leather sofas flank the aisles bidding members to rest awhile.
Porcelain busts and portraits of great men of yore
Are caught in their world to inspire and inform.
Quiet cultured conversations
Blend harmoniously with muted hues of
Soft greens, and coral shades, touched by gentle light.
The lively fire in The Morning room,
Beckons members in , to read magazines and papers that rest within .
An air of serenity gentility permeates every corner
Simplicity, humanity at its best revealing
Our history, our present and our future aspirations questioning;
Here, in the heart of London , where ideas are quietly metamorphosing.