Having a Clew

Within my brain there’s residue Of many things that I once knew And on occasion, from the blue, A word appears, as if on cue. For on my phone, the word on view (A daily treat, each morning due) Was one for which my mem’ry drew On Theseus, the hero who Was seeking out an avenue To leave a maze he’d ventured through And did so, when he used a clew* A maiden gave, who loved him true. I’d read this tale (one of a few) When I was young; as knowledge grew I never thought I could construe The key to “clew” without a clue. *a ball of thread, yarn or cord