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Waning Childhood

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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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