Spin me a new world,
a fresh plain
from golden thread
that weaves through
spindled fingers
under a firm brow
and a loving heart.

Mould me a new day,
in a new time
from deepest clay
with gentle palms
coated in pearly drops
between the wisest oak.

Weave me a new soul,
a fresh heart
from ancient tapestries
of red, gold and green.
With the wisest eyes
and thimbled tips.
Sew the old lessons in.

Published by R.T

Brit born and Canada bound, I run On Tuesdays, my poetry blog where I write weekly(ish) poems.

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