A dove grey strand shows the care
from which we stepped from our Kaer
Together we four chose to dare
the outside to see how we would fare

An azure strand from a carefree day
spent on a blue and silver bay
listening to the children's play
as we dreamed the day away.

Each strand bright with it's own hue
of the final pattern holds no clue.
I spin the memories I shared with you
and weave a story strong and true.

A silver strand from a distant night
when we watched the northern lights
from a treetop's leafy heights
and we knew that all was right.

A golden strand for your eyes
patient, kind, knowing, wise.
In their light hope never dies;
love grows wings with which it flies

Each strand bright with it's own hue
of the final pattern holds no clue.
I spin the memories I shared with you
and weave a story strong and true.

An orange strand marks the morn
when we saw our son born.
With newborn love our hearts were torn
from bodies both tired and worn.

A purple strand marks the bruise
We suffered at the news
Born long before he was due
our second son we were to loose.

Each strand bright with it's own hue
of the final pattern holds no clue.
I spin the memories I shared with you
and weave a story strong and true.

An emerald strand for our home
sheltered 'neath a leafy dome
by a waterfall's frothing foam
a place I miss when e'er I roam.

A scarlet strand shows the stain
that marked my heart when you were slain.
No one can ken the burning pain
Lightening brought through the rain.

Each strand bright with it's own hue
of the final pattern holds no clue.
I spin the memories I shared with you
and weave a story strong and true.