She dances in my head as in a dream
and raven are her eyes as onyx blown.
As Autumn steps into her bleaker scene
chill mist is in the air; cold-to-the-bone.
“Oh, waltz with me”, said she; “Our time is brief
and through the hills and valleys, dancing, go!
I’ll bind your webs of old, remembered grief
and in the quiet moonlight’s golden glow.”
The music of the spider woman’s waltz
reminds me of a heart once in your care.
Now wilted, waste-filled memories repulse.
Old love’s forgotten and my branches bare.
Was on a night like this her glancing gloom
did overtake my soul; my heart entomb.