The Weaver
Dawn tiptoes stealthily on the
Weaver with her slender back
Strapped to the loom,
As she whistles a merry tune
The chirping birds pause and listen
With envious wonder
And the dawn takes his flight
She weaves her dreams with the
crimson yarn
The warp and the weft entwine in a magical union
The heddle towers majestically and
The batten beats down the blazing trail
The shuttle had journeyed
Pain,hunger and thirst
Are her familiar guests
But the weaver weaves on
Whistling a merry tune
And when the dusk winks at her
He sees an exquisite dream
Sparkling in the weaver's loom
YOU ARE READING
The Biggest Competition Ever II
Poetry***Wattpad has told us we can add no more to part one .... so here is part 2.*** This will be the biggest competition in the history of the Poets Pub. A 10 week competition to find an ultimate poet here at the Pub. 10 different poetry styles over...
