Her mother left a velvet box,
black outside and red within.
“Fill it up with lovely things,
and I will come again.”
So in went pearls, and little rings,
a chain, a charm, a stone.
She kept them close, she counted them,
and called the box her own.
Soarer Ring | Couplet Pearl Necklace | Crimson Rose Beaded Necklace | Glint Necklace | Interwoven Hoops
But hands came reaching in the dark,
and took what she had saved.
A pearl was gone, a chain was lost,
a ring slipped from its place.
So she began to spin at night,
not out of rage, but fear.
A thread across the golden clasp,
a thread to keep things near.
She spun around the pendant’s edge,
she crossed the velvet floor.
And every time a jewel shone,
she spun a little more.
Now web lies thick where gold still waits,
where pearls sleep out of sight.
She guards the box with patient legs,
and watches through the night.
So leave the silver threads alone,
do not sweep them free.
They are the shape her waiting took,
for someone yet to see.
Sincerely yours
