Lovkyplut71 In reply to twixtnightandmorn [2011-06-18 06:05:20 +0000 UTC]
In her web she still delights to weave the mirror's magic sights.
For often through the silent nights
A funeral with plumes and music and lights went to Camelot.
And when the moon was overhead came two young lovers lately wed.
'I am half-sick of shadows' she said, the Lady of Shalott.
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