Thursday, April 9, 2009

Elegant Words

Throughout my life I have had my grandmother recite her poems to me. Her work is beautiful and captures in words the feelings of a soul. This poem of hers named the Weaver is one of my favorites.

The Weaver

There will come a day, a distant one I pray
when loom and thread and hours of toil will all be put away
and I shall stand beside my work so long ago begun
and see a pattern clearly shaped from deeds and actions done.

Oh, may the flaws be small and few, not seen by eyes but mine,
and may the threads be bright with love, strong and true and fine.
That on the day my work shall wait for God alone to see,
He'll say, "Well done my daughter. Come now, and weave for me."

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