Forest

'Tween evergreen boughs

Young fae do flit

Weaving silk from starlight

Yet the finest cloth

Is woven

Upon the ivory loom

From joy

Sorrow

Fear

Love

And the heartstrings of the brave

Comes the fragile cloth

Of life

 

When a strand breaks

A soul is severed

From the Earth

To weave

Until

They die

And

Are born

Once again

To spin the thread

And continue

On

Reviews

[Lewis Davis-Norman]

This is one of the best poems I have read on here. It harkens back to the style and language of the olden days with such simplistic beauty. The flow is fluid and lovely. Truly excellent, I'll keep up with your writing!