The Valley of the Kings Poem was written by Pamela Storch on her 36th birthday. 

The golden and red frame that surrounds this poem was created from an intricate desk handle and a wooden desk. 

The Valley of the Kings 

In the valley of the kings, 
In shadow’s darkest bloom, 
With swiftness does the evening stir, 
The darkness on the lake, 

For diamonds glow and glisten, 
In the stillness of today, 
Yet only if the waking one, 
Takes care to be awake. 

For shadow’s dance upon the hills, 
In timeless realms of old, 
Unlimited is past regret, 
Upon the golden age, 

For listen does the wisest son, 
To ancient stories told, 
Yet does not seek to be the dove, 
Entrapped inside a cage. 

Timeless are the secrets, 
Of the ancient widow’s past, 
Inside the lair of many, 
There are only but a few, 

For honey pours upon the streets, 
Of sacred holy stairs, 
Beyond the ancient city, 
There is myrtle, pine and yew. 

Dance now in forever, 
Must the kingdom of the hills, 
For once the sunset settles, 
Nevermore is black-set ink, 

For ravens softly sleeping, 
On the longest summer’s quills, 
Remember now the words of gold, 
Awaken with a blink. 

-Pamela Storch

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