Spinster

Spinning wheel, spinning wheel,

Come spin me a story,

Without a beginning,

Without any end.

Sensual yarn, secret yarn,

Fine-spun fabrication,

Invisible fibre

That weaves our pretend.

Draw a circle, call it me,

In it put reality,

From it make a telescope,

Micro scope it out and hope

That finding what the sphere contains

Reveals the workings of our brains.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Who’s the dumbest of them all?

Walking round a ha-ha’s edge,

Blind to what creates the ledge;

The bigger round we’ll never see,

The Real that bounds us virtually.