History threads her needle, through the world’s fabric.
These purple threads are binding us in celebration.
And continuing a thousand years of England’s monarchy.
The Stone of Scone is today one man’s destiny.
Processions of horses from London to Louisville.
With Churchill’s race in mind.
Decorated in shades of blue.
Remembrances of monarchs; passing the crown on to England’s son.
Nervous and happy waves.
Thinking about England’s daughter on this misty white cloudy morning.
Kaleidoscope of international colors, woven into a tapestry of gold.
A commonwealth of people whose national pride is an extraordinary vision.
Spiraling to the heights of heaven.
Singing Hallelujah in one voice.
With millions of shining diamonds.
Leaders and citizens heeding St. Paul’s message.
To honor our commonality.
Trumpets echo in homage and in red roses.
Perfect displays of pomp and circumstance.
Houses that will forever stand in glorious triumph.
Serving each other with deep abiding love.
Church bells ringing simultaneously from towns and countryside.
In step and in order.
Memories in time.
© Mary Anne Abdo
Oh, Mary Anne what an absolutely wonderful poem – beautifully weaved together. Thank you so much. 🙂
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I should have said woven together!!! Not weaved, is that even a word? 😂
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No worries, I knew what you meant.
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I just looked up weaved. Both woven and weaved are perfectly acceptable words to use. I just looked it up in the Websters Dictionary. We learn something new every day, my friend.
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Really? Now that is good news. Thank you, Mary Anne. 🙂
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You are so welcome. It was a beautiful ceremony.
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