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The Weaver's Tale


This is a poem I wrote in 5th grade based on a story a friend told me. It was the story of a weaver hidden in the hills that only children could see. Someday I'd like to sit down and write a full story to it, when I have time. I'm also in the process of adapting this poem into a song.

Across the hills where paths unwind
The weaver weaves though she is blind
She weaves in silence on her own
In and out but she is not alone

Weaving the colors of night and day
While children sit outside and play
The tapestry grows brighter yet
With the pattern the weaving's set

Deep in the dark she weaves by fire
While children sit and watch beside her
Her weavings sing with songs untold
Showing off her heart of gold

In her chair she weaves all night
Until the dawn breaks through with light
Even then she weaves away
And she weaves throughout the day

Even though she cannot see
The grand design of her tapestry
She knows it beauty in her heart
The beauty with it from the start

Through her window you see her face
Her eyes hold her weaving in embrace
Still she weaves through rain or shine
Adding to her grand design

Now she is but a memory
That's all that's left of her in me
And every night I say a prayer
That when I reach heaven she's weaving there


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