Sleeping Beauty
"Gaffe! Wrong face! Hic!"
the spindle cries.
Line plays out,
twirling point pricks.
One drop - instruments.
Thread stops,
weaves asleep.
Frozen beauty,
the rose wreath,
cages rarely smell as sweet.
Kiss, quick breath, end, the cycle peaks.
Lips touch death,
spinning wheel starts.
Blind eyes, Prince Charmheart;
hero's role Fate's predrawn -
palm lines master,
the strings spun.
Spindles seek to do no wrong.
