Waning Childhood

 

I spun  the spindle to the time

Of the apple bite that took my mind,

The golden threads come with a price,

I only pricked my finger twice.

 

I polished lamps and gave out crumbs,

To lazy boys and little ones,

I held the sword above the sea,

I led the king to his destiny.

 

 

I spun  the golden strands of hair,

The child that she could not bear,

My shoe is missing, smashed apart,

I left it with the Queen of Hearts.

 

I watched the goblins come and go,

The fairies that danced amongst the snow,

The dolls that smiled, the creatures that spoke,

I savored the smell of witches smoke.

 

I spun the precious golden thread,

That lead him through the maze instead

Of dying as a sacrifice--

She saved him once, I saved him twice.

 

I bore a girl small as a seed,

I watched the mighty Cyclops bleed,

I gave the shoes that the cat wore,

I cursed the mighty dwarf-cave door.

 

I spun the silken threads of shame,

That bound the puppet to his name,

I saw princesses dance all night,

Until their shoes broke with the light.

 

I spun and spun, the stories swirled,

I was the goddess of their world,

But paper crumbles, thread decays,

And stories lose their charm with days.

 

But now I sit and spin no more.

I lost something behind the doors,

Of Neverland and Avalon,

I spin no more, my loom is gone.

 

 

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