I found an old hand made braided rug
at a thrifty store, the other day.
It was quite a dirty sight to see
with some of its edges frayde.
I bought it up and rushed it home!
to give this little rug, a gentle loving needed bath.
And when it was cleaned, there was seen
braided memories of someone's past.
One braided rope weaved into another
a child's pajamas or maybe a robe?
Then an old flour bag, 'Velvet Flour'
was the logo, in this rug they'd sewed.
Then what looked to be a small center piece
remnants of someone's wedding gown.
I think they placed it there on purpose
Sort of like this little rugs, jeweled crown.
Memories of someone's life
braided into this useful little rug.
To place in front of a sink or bed
giving where ever placed, a little braided hug.
I don't know if anyone still makes them
these journals of a persons past?
But this little braided rug is now mine to treasure
to be enjoyed as long as it will last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem