Somewhere

Somewhere someone possesses my works of art,
Two individual rugs I designed from the start,
Laboured with love from beginning to end,
Weaving and knotting colours that blend.

Brilliant but expensive materials and time,
They last forever with workmanship of mine,
Drawing and tracing the pattern by hand,
Careful the measurements each well planned.

One black and yellow with traces of red,
Two Chinese dragons going head to head,
One to scale then reversed to match,
Bordered in black from the same batch.

The second rug much harder to complete,
A world map right there at your feet,
Piece by piece I knotted and tied,
Then the master piece was finished with pride.

For many years I favoured these two,
Later to sell so others could view,
As with interests they come and go,
Only today did I recall what I know.

Art has many forms its heart mind and head,
Creativity thrives once it is fed,
Then there's action to motivate and dream,
Consider these words relate them to what's seen.
About this poem;-
Written after thinking of my running around the
World then rowing around it, there must be a driving force somewhere
in all of this. The creation and making of these rugs kept me occupied

for quite some time.