The word we weave we spell we plan and we pray time will tel
into the mist round to spin
feel the soft wet upon your skin
the sky falls dark
her
not there
a soft glow of gold holds you in the air
you can feel the lift of the wind that binds you
every movement tethered to find you
all the eyes see through the wind
8 legs feel
it's time to start the end
Be still and listen
One day I will tell you a story
Always dressed to fit in she weaved her way through the grounds
on a thread not to be found silent up and through the trees and then back down
she did sweetly sit upon his knee with out an earthly sound she sang
a song for none before her till the time was done it would wait to be heard as one
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