New Classic Poems – Contemporary Verse That Rhymes

New Classic Poems
The Dark Side
The Foundling
Cynthia K. Deatherage
From out the cold and under deep,
within the shadows of the Keep,
throughout the day, throughout the dark,
three Sisters at their weaving work.
Swifter than the eye can follow,
Patterns shape both high and hollow.
Lives, they say, are twined therein–
the paths men choose to live within.
The loom is fast, the weaver's beam
weaves a pattern without seam.
Endless, endless, ever growing,
knowing all, yet never showing.
None has seen it, none save one–
a foundling lad, a no-man's son.
From out the cold and under deep,
within the shadows of their Keep,
beneath the water's ceaseless sigh,
three Sisters heard a baby's cry.
Someone left a boy-child near,
crying loud with hungry fear.
Said Sister One to sisters two,
"Leave the weaving, warp and woof.
Let us find this little bird,
for in my heart his voice has stirred
a longing as I have not known
to weave his young life with our own."
So leaving all their weaving still,
they found the babe on grassy hill,
and Sister Two in plump, round arms
calmed the child with smiles and charms.
But Sister Three just mumbled low:
"We've left too long–our work is slow."
From out the cold and under deep,
within the shadows of the Keep,
three Sisters brought the foundling child
to raise him gently, raise him mild,
to give him love with love returned,
never lacking, never spurned.
And so he grew from babe to youth,
learning knowledge, knowing truth.
Nothing from the lad was hidden–
save the woven cloth forbidden
for a mortal's eye to see;
save only this–the rest was free.
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