...

I held an idea in my hand
In the shape of silken string
And it shone so as to reflect
Silvertongued words put to it
Upon it I built some other ideas
Like weaving together strands
Of different silken threads
As they tied into each other
"This links with this, and this
But not with that, or that
And as for this, who knows?
But can I link these two
That none have linked before?"
And so they support each other
And then made a whole tapestry
Of silken thread and silver words
Which in parts contrasts vividly
And in others complements gently
And shines in day or night
Which I then hung upon my wall
And invited others to admire
And all did, save for one smart one
Who gazed deep to see one strand loose
And pulled out the wayward thread
Not knowing it's important state
For as we build idea upon idea
A strong foundation is needed first
But my towering edifice had no such
As I built ideas just on themselves
And as for the one she pulled out
It was the initial and primal one
Without which all just collapses
So where tapestry hung is now a pile,
A beautiful and brightly coloured mess
Of silken thread and silver words...