By J.Lynne Moore

In want of words,
For my loom;
To weave together,
A sentence bloom.

With gentle tone,
And humble pen;
Back and forth,
My tale does spin.

Of noble knights,
And wee fairy queens,
A blanket of words,
Reveals my dreams.

The shuttle slides,
Fast and then slow.
Onward now…
The words must flow!

The tapestry complete,
Varied shades and hues.
I rest my pen,
In contemplative muse.

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