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Peaceweaver

By Rhiannon

Topics: Poetry Source: AllPoetry Original source

Upon a hill, above a townA young girl sits, her head bowed downAsking 'when will it cease, this troubled time?'And leave her land in peaceAnd in the spring, before their powerInto her hair she weaves the flowersAnd with open hand, she walks her landHer destiny to findIt is arranged, the plans are setInto a warring clan she's wedShe's a human bridge to stop the flowOf blood upon their fieldsWith summer's sun, she wears a crownHer maiden dress now a foreign gownAnd it's her body she lays downShe's a weaver of peaceBut war returns, again and againOne battle claims her family's menSons, husband, brothers, father, allTo each other's swords they fallWith autumn's wind upon the pyreShe weaves their arms before the fireTo set them free her sole desireShe's a weaver of peaceAnd with winter's snow she takes her leaveTo heal herself she sits to weaveA tapestry her tale to tellAnd give her grief to timeHer long hair shorn as golden threadShe weaves a story of her deadThat those that see may choose peace insteadShe's a weaver of peace Written November 1st, 2001 © on Nov 01 2001 01:03 AM PST   0 • 10

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"Upon a hill, above a townA young girl sits, her head bowed downAsking 'when will it cease, this troubled time?'And leave her land in peaceAnd in the spring, before their powerInto her hair she weaves the flowersAnd with open hand, she walks her landHer destiny to findIt is arranged, the plans are setInto a warring clan she's wedShe's a human bridge to stop the flowOf blood upon their fieldsWith summer's sun, she wears a crownHer maiden dress now a foreign gownAnd it's her body she lays downShe's a weaver of peaceBut war returns, again and againOne battle claims her family's menSons, husband, brothers, father, allTo each other's swords they fallWith autumn's wind upon the pyreShe weaves their arms before the fireTo set them free her sole desireShe's a weaver of peaceAnd with winter's snow she takes her leaveTo heal herself she sits to weaveA tapestry her tale to tellAnd give her grief to timeHer long hair shorn as golden threadShe weaves a story of her deadThat those that see may choose peace insteadShe's a weaver of peace..."

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Author:Rhiannon

Source:AllPoetry

"Upon a hill, above a townA young girl sits, her he..." by Rhiannon

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