Q: Goddess of Old, whence, whereto do You call The Querent?
A: Down Paths of The Unforgettable,
Beyond dreary tomes and tombs
Of modern day macabre.
Summer was worryingly long, Autumn too, Winter finally
Came down with fog and hoar frost, coating spider webs
Trees bushes flowers houses rocks everything indiscriminately
Even the screaming cat next door finds a way to stay in
Lest she be immortalized into further furry bitterness