Post by SilverDragonLily on Oct 9, 2004 20:13:09 GMT -5
I'm not sure what the real title of this is and I might change some parts in it, but I wanted suggestions and critisism:P
Rocking gently, she hums and weaves
Silver hair and slender face, eyes of wisdom and love
In her lap a blanket is created with multi-colored leaves
Covering the land in the fall from silent meadows to tall, wise hills above
She sings a song of love, tender, graceful and true
Of a young beautiful maiden who became a lovely lady
Every step the maiden took, a flower grew
And where the lady walked, life and love flourished freely
Winter was soon approaching, so the weaving crone knew
And her grandchildren needed the blanket with colorful patches
Yellows, reds, purples, oranges, how the blanket grew!
From her slender fingertips, to each patch her loves attaches
But wind soared through the meadows and land
The patches wore, and fell to the ground below
Where they covered forest floors, crunching, decomposing to sand
That the next spring nourished a young tree to grow
The Grandmother smiles, as her blanket is complete
And teaches her grandchildren what they must know
As crystal snow creates a layering sheet
The cycle of death is necessary for life to grow
Rocking gently, she hums and weaves
Silver hair and slender face, eyes of wisdom and love
In her lap a blanket is created with multi-colored leaves
Covering the land in the fall from silent meadows to tall, wise hills above
She sings a song of love, tender, graceful and true
Of a young beautiful maiden who became a lovely lady
Every step the maiden took, a flower grew
And where the lady walked, life and love flourished freely
Winter was soon approaching, so the weaving crone knew
And her grandchildren needed the blanket with colorful patches
Yellows, reds, purples, oranges, how the blanket grew!
From her slender fingertips, to each patch her loves attaches
But wind soared through the meadows and land
The patches wore, and fell to the ground below
Where they covered forest floors, crunching, decomposing to sand
That the next spring nourished a young tree to grow
The Grandmother smiles, as her blanket is complete
And teaches her grandchildren what they must know
As crystal snow creates a layering sheet
The cycle of death is necessary for life to grow
