Spindle Of My Mind © Poem by Roann Mendriq

Weaving golden memories,
in the spindle of my mind;
Adrift upon a silken breeze,
of patchwork so designed.

I lose my thread of errant thought;
with every stitch I drop;
And find the memory I sought,
till panic slows to stop.

Busy at my memory loom,
I weave myself some laughter;
As an intricate costume,
for a happily ever after.

I start to smile in reverie,
at life's quirky little riches;
Chuckling soft inside of me,
I find myself in stitches.

Tangled in the silken skeins,
I pause and use my skill;
To break free from the chains,
To stop myself unravel.

A tranquil tapestry arises,
it comes from who knows whence;
Cross stitch scolds, chastises,
Blanket stitch, a reminiscence.

Embroidery at this juncture,
in everything I do;
Is a parrallel acupuncture,
of an applique of you.