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The Weaver

Today's are woven with yesterday's thread Spun by hands restless on life's silent loom This tapestry made carried to death's bed Woven with all the knowledge you consume Framed to be hung on your life's hardened wall, of what has been for the weaver, reminds Tomorrow's thread yet to be lived at all While the new day's cloth finally unwinds Weave in disappointment, victories sought, with woven memories cut and knotted To be a reminder of what's been taught Records the reasons for time allotted To weave this tapestry without design Unravels majesty and leaves but twine Frederic Parker 10/7/14

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 11/8/2014 7:02:00 AM
Lovely sonnet and congrats on the win, Frederic
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Date: 11/7/2014 8:53:00 AM
Congratulations on your well thought out poem.
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Date: 10/10/2014 8:30:00 PM
powerful piece of writing dear friend
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Date: 10/9/2014 8:36:00 PM
oooh, that last couplet really spells out the message of your poem so well. I hope none of us end up with mere twine!! Very nice read. I once did a sonnet called the Weaver but mine was on the dream weaver!!
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Date: 10/8/2014 4:04:00 PM
Wow! Love the way you use the "weave" as a metaphor for the many events that touch our lives, Frederic. Indeed, it's the weave we make ourselves that we carry to our "death beds." Truly, a brilliant poem! Love, carolyn
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Book: Shattered Sighs