Your tree is real Yvette because I have seen such a tree in Kauai; it is called a rainbow eucalyptus tree (eucalyptus deglupta)and it is a wonder to behold as is your beautiful felt creation.
When the dawn unfolds like a bolt of ribbon Thrown through my window, I know that hours of light Are about to thrust themselves into me Like omnivorous needles into listless cloth, Threaded with the heavy colours of the sun. They seem altogether too eager, To embroider this thing of mine, My Day, Into the strict patterns of an altar cloth; Or at least to stitch it into a useful garment. But I know they will do nothing of the kind. They will prick away, And when they are through with it It will look like the patch quilt my grandmother made When she was learning to sew.
This poem is in the public domain. About This Poem
“Heavy Threads” was published in Hall’s book Curtains (John Lane Company, 1921).
Hazel Hall was born in Saint Paul, Minnesota, in 1886. Her books include Walkers (Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1923) and Cry of Time (E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1928). Hall died in Portland, Oregon, in 1924.
a rainbow tree!
ReplyDeletetree souls merging to make One of themSelves
ReplyDeleteYes a rainbow tree to help dispel the storm, we have storm here as well.
ReplyDeletea colourful tree with eyes ! ;-)
ReplyDeleteYour tree is real Yvette because I have seen such a tree in Kauai; it is called a rainbow eucalyptus tree (eucalyptus deglupta)and it is a wonder to behold as is your beautiful felt creation.
ReplyDeletewat een magnifieke kleuren in je werk, yvette!
ReplyDeletelaat het buiten maar stormen, eh, binnen is het lekker warm en gezellig! ;-))
Heavy Threads
ReplyDeleteby
Hazel Hall
When the dawn unfolds like a bolt of ribbon
Thrown through my window,
I know that hours of light
Are about to thrust themselves into me
Like omnivorous needles into listless cloth,
Threaded with the heavy colours of the sun.
They seem altogether too eager,
To embroider this thing of mine,
My Day,
Into the strict patterns of an altar cloth;
Or at least to stitch it into a useful garment.
But I know they will do nothing of the kind.
They will prick away,
And when they are through with it
It will look like the patch quilt my grandmother made
When she was learning to sew.
This poem is in the public domain.
About This Poem
“Heavy Threads” was published in Hall’s book Curtains (John Lane Company, 1921).
Hazel Hall was born in Saint Paul, Minnesota, in 1886. Her books include Walkers (Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1923) and Cry of Time (E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1928). Hall died in Portland, Oregon, in 1924.