(A Petrarchan sonnet reflecting on the passage of time and the beauty of resilience, following an ABBAABBA CDECDE rhyme scheme.)
The heavy loom of time begins to turn,And weaves the thread of seasons fast and bright,With shades of autumn's gold and winter's white,While in the soul, the dying embers burn.Yet do not let the weary spirit mourn,For every shadow yields to morning light,And stars are born within the deepest night,To guide the weary traveler who is worn.The fabric holds the patterns of the past,With every joy and sorrow stitched in place,A masterpiece of endurance and of grace.The fragile threads are destined just to last,And though the outward beauty may decay,The inner strength shall never fade away
No comments:
Post a Comment