Tony Mitton

Poet & Children's Writer

Yarn

Do you remember
the tale of the girl
locked up in the chamber
and told to spin gold
from straw?

I am like her.
My world is a vault
of solid stuff,
brutal and tough,
and I am locked up in it.

My wheel is my pen
and my work is to set it
to spin,
to grip with its small point
all it can pin
down.

Was it a witch
or a king,
who spelled me here,
pitching me into
this pent place?

Why should I ask,
as clearly my task
is merely to write
and write and write,
across the desert
of day and night,

endlessly spinning
the dead, dry straw
into a glimmer
of something more,

plying my pen
to subtly fold
the lustreless straw
to a sheen of gold?

My story is over.
The tale is told.

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