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“He spun her world in silver-blue Catching in the light the faintest hues A maiden from a castle tall Its towers spun of silk But it could not stand against the winds Without foundation laid more firm And so the tide rushed forward And took it far from view Far, far away from view. She bent before the boat Laughter once in her eyes Silenced in the morning still And so she stepped into its web An echo of another age And weaving through the waters soft Like the Lady of Shalott Her Camelot in mind’s eye Too lost in silver-turned shadow gray To note the one who stood afar Beside the willowy tree behind Eyes cast in farther distance still Not far from where she lay. Her heart knew only the web that spun And onward she rowed, longer she held. Of silk, a flimsy dash of hope Of silk, a hope dashed in its midst Oh, its towers spun of silk. It could not stand It could not stand For, it was not a rock.” — Gina Marinello-Sweeney