Written by Charles “Gray Poet” Townsend and Hastywords
I sat in the middle of the trees
A circle laid out in front of me
A noose of sorts, fibers strong
Tied perfect like he taught me
Why he taught me, I know not
But it calls out to me its allure
Will he approve of my creation
As I stare quietly, I’m not sure
The symbolism is not lost on me
The timing of each loop created
Braided with a meticulous ease
As if my story was foretold, fated
I lift it gently, proudly raise it high
He smiles, an affectionate wink
My dreamcatcher finally ready
Hung to snare images I think
and it was a pleasure to mingle words with such a talent… thank you for the opportunity..
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Like I told you in the email…the ending you gave was BRILLIANT!
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Reblogged this on Gray Poet and commented:
Had the honor of contributing, so wanted to share…
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Reblogged this on georgeforfun.
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Brilliant is definitely the word. This is excellent!
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I felt it in my mind.
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A dark moment, one must let go!
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