Cosmic Weaver

In twilight's hush, where shadows softly fall, A gentle soul weaves magic, one thread at all. With yarn of moonlight, yarn of starry night, She crafts a universe, a celestial delight. Her needles dance, a rhythmic, mystic spell, As galaxies unfold, and stories to tell. The chair, a throne, where wisdom sits and stays, A guardian of tales, in yarn's intricate ways. The balls of yarn, like planets, roll and play, As she weaves fate, in a cosmic, dreamlike sway. In every stitch, a memory, a tale, a sigh, A life's work, where love and magic never die. With each thread's twist, a universe expands, A microcosm of dreams, in her skilled hands. The curtain's dark, a backdrop for her art, A stage where cosmic tales, are woven to the heart. In this serene scene, where art and magic meet, The weaver's spirit, in yarn, forever repeats.