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weave me,  spinning

thread bare strands of life

as only you can

into silken beauty of brokenness

stretch me

far beyond what I could ever know

as only you can

adorn me with unwasted tears,
collected

lest I think I’m some kind of Rumplestiltskin

pretending to know the intricacies

of weaving gold from dust

as only you can

Patricia Spreng

You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.  Psalm 56:8

Joining today with d’Verse Poets… click here to find the wonderful words of poets. 

Bloom

My mother's favorite flower...
taken at her funeral by my niece,
Kristen Grinnell Photography 

It  doesn't matter

the number of tears that fall...

who can say

how many there will be?

for no one ever counts
how many rain drops fall

before flowers bloom
or rainbows come

but they do,
and you will...

bloom again.

Patricia  Spreng

Dedicated to my friend whom I love with all my heart. 

Submitted to dVerse where you will find the wonderful words of poets.

rainbow dreams

wash away

like pastel chalk drawings

on sidewalks in the storm

reality melting

as tear drops fall through

helpless fingers

to earth

only to land on

innocent petals of life and beauty

never meant to carry

thorns of broken promises

their weight in gold

worth so much more

than any pot found

when chasing rainbow's end

tears of loss

roll off these

the weight of broken promises

that petals cannot carry

Patricia Spreng

Written as an expression of grief for dear friends and children suffering through the pain of divorce, who find it is quite impossible to grieve in silence or public after the tragic death of a marriage.  Sharing this today at One Shot Wednesday.