Board :Poetry
Author :Poetry host Poems
Subject :2nd place by Beorn
Date :9/20
A humble weaver sits,
Tired fingers hold the thread,
Her head and eyelids droop,
She rests her weary head.

A humble weaver smiles,
At a wee babe in bed,
Tired but happy mother,
Watches over his head.

A humble weaver waves,
Her child sets off to school,
She takes up ancient thread,
And winds it on the spool.

A humble weaver weaves,
As her son parries forth,
Learning to duck and dodge,
A race upon his horse.

A humble weaver trims,
Her splendid cloth of gold,
Her child will have his coat,
And never will go cold.

A humble weaver cries,
As her son leaves the nest,
Though tired, old and lonely,
The weaver cannot rest.

A weaver waits for news,
A letter held with pride,
She sees the green valleys,
Where her bravest son rides.

A humble weaver sleeps,
The sleep that never ends,
Her heritage lives on,
The land her son defends.

-Beorn