““He unpacks his bag of tales with fingers quick as a weaver's picking the weft threads threading the warp. Watch his fingers. Watch his lips speaking the old familiar words: "Once there was and there was not, oh, best beloved, when the world was filled with wishes the way the sea is filled with fishes..." All those threads pulling us back to another world, another time, when goosegirls married well and frogs could rhyme, when maids spoke syllables of pearl and stepmothers came to grief. … (from The Storyteller poem)””
