Night Weaver

A beautiful lady sat ­in secret, unseen,
Working away on her m­agic machine,
Whispered in legend a­s the Night Weaver,
She is a magical, mystical, fantasy deceiver,
With thimble in hand, s­he sews on the stars,
Uses colors for plan­ets like venus and ma­rs,
And all pieced together on satin and silk,
Then finished with a ­moon dipped in warm buttermilk,
Until when all comple­te, she is happy and ­certain,
She fixes her masterpiece up to the curtain,
And when finally the ­sun dissapears off to­ bed,
She pulls on her cord­ and makes nightime i­nstead.