This Poem was Submitted By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2012-06-08 18:12:54 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The tapestry I stitched with care unraveled at the hem I shaped the ends with golden shears until the pleats were knives. With delicate fingers I twined the thread but blood drops stained the somber lines that my life had carved in times of wasted breath. I wished to mend the cloth with  rainbow thread that binds  but tatters depth was laced with frowns that held my soundless soul. My sewing box brimmed with pastel hues that made my needle sing but soon the silver tip was cold and bound with some twisted lace. If spoonfuls of morning will fade the folds of ebon night I’ll clutch the hem of rags and keep the hearts that blend despite the frayed seams of my mortal dress.

Copyright © June 2012 cheyenne smyth

This Poem was Critiqued By: Ellen K Lewis On Date: 2012-06-25 00:59:43
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Cheyenne! This is another great piece from you! This verse is my favorite. It could almost make its own poem-or maybe a haiku. It brings up some good images. I wished to mend the cloth with rainbow thread that binds but tatters depth was laced with frowns that held my soundless soul. And in the end you remind me that this fabric, these threads are imbedded in my mortal dress. I stand in awe. This is great stuff! Smiles~~smiles to you~~Ellen

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2012-06-09 22:03:43
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Chey It seems you and I are writing from parallel universes in our most recent posts...except where I end mine with a sense of resignation, you end with slightly more of an active sense of hope... ...and guess that's why I like this :-) Best wishes Mark
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