Читать книгу Dandelion Diary - Marguerite Black - Страница 4

The weaver

I spin stories for you,

in you,

like a cocoon,

a pocket in which you can live,

cushioning you from sharpness,

sudden impact.

I spin stories for you,

unfolding them before you

like a Persian rug

which I weave with thought,

laced with laughter, on which you can tiptoe

through the paths of your life.

Dancing in the garden