weaver - richard dawson lyrics
[verse 1]
i steep the wool in a cauldron
of pummel [?] afloat in urine
and river water thrice-boiled with a blood-stone
then let it breathe
under the beams
while i prepare the lichen
half a fist of wizard beard and [?]
yields [?] whole time to paint
lavenders and echo of the beeswing
dazzling
[?] the salty [?]
it looks like a thundercloud
suspended from the cables
high above the [?]
which now i never could foresee
[?]
so we begin
feeding it in
combing through the fibres [?] searching for a yarn to spin
[verse 2]
my lady takes a nasty tumble
down the crumbled steps of the merchant’s guild
precipitating the early onset of labour
there is a crab
caught in her hair
stretchering through the market
fearful are the bellows to behold
even with the spindle firmly clenched between her teeth
[?] the baby’s head emerges
onto the sudden [?]
even though the new born child
is not my kin [?]
[?] dangling by a string
[?] mystery of love
my very ancient friend
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