Alchemy

Not just with bulky metals
But something much more dear
 How they can turn Hate into Love
And make Joy out of Fear

 Turn the weight of boredom
Into anticipation
Turn the lead of anger
Into golden expectation

it is al work for the Alchemy course 

Two times in one

A quilt made for the challenge,, de Kracht van moeder aarde  ,, and at the same time for colors of Africa

Mother Nature

© Edith A. Phinazee

Our world is always changing,
Constantly re-arranging.
From ocean depths to mountain peaks,
Mother Nature moves and speaks.
While telling stories of our past
She tries to teach us how to last.
Mankind, so smart, sometimes blind
Leaves common sense far behind.
We're moving fast and living large,
Forgetting she's the one in charge.
Amazed when she rings our bell,
Sending us through living hell.
She can twist our steel, shake any city,
If her wrath you feel, we shall pity.
Yet some who speak on her behalf,
I fear just seek the golden calf.
It's true, we must treat her right.
Or we will incur a deadly plight.
Treat her with distinction
Or surely face extinction!

lets go

Come Fairies,
take me out of this dull world,
for I would ride with you
upon the wind and dance
upon the mountains like a flame.


W.B. Yeats

Still going

Tell me of the alchemists
And the story that is told
Of how it is that they have learned
To turn lead into gold

Try ,Try Again

'Tis a lesson you should heed,
If at first you don't succeed,
Try, try again;

Then your courage should appear,
For if you will persevere,
You will conquer, never fear
Try, try again;

Once or twice, though you should fail,
If you would at last prevail,
Try, try again;

If we strive, 'tis no disgrace
Though we do not win the race;
What should you do in the case?
Try, try again

If you find your task is hard,
Time will bring you your reward,
Try, try again

All that other folks can do,
Why, with patience, should not you?
Only keep this rule in view:
Try, try again.

Woman at work

for the Alchemy class given by Karen Ruane

Design

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth --
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth --
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.

Robert Frost

Karmelklooster

I have to promote this
 It is in Drachten  were I live 

http://www.karmelklooster.nl/pagina.php?id=224

Travelers blanket

the green stitch is a knotted feather stitch
Here you can see how it is done

 and seed stitches on the Travelers Blanket

Earth

Birds and butterflies
Rivers and mountains she creates

 But you'll never know
The next move she'll make

You can try
But it is useless to ask why
Cannot control her
She goes her own way

 She rules until the end of time
She gives and she takes
She rules until the end of time

Open dag Quiltershuske

 http://www.quiltershuske.nl/
a lovely little shop with a lovely lady
and a old friend from way back

I will come back soon

More octablom stories

The sewing machine joins
 what the scissors have cut asunder, 
plus whatever else comes in its path.  
~Mason Cooley

 

Hidden in green grass
like a lady behind curtain,
a flower leads its life.

Octablom quilt

Day after day the pattern grew;
Each block was deftly set in place,
And rows of tiny stitches tell

A tale that time cannot efface.
Of patience, skill, housewifely pride,
Of women's love for pretty thing,

Of fingers trained such work to do
By those who know the joy it brings,
Of time within the home weel spent,
The heart with homely tasks content.

Last days of the year

All the words are gone now-
I am left alone
With the quiet-
The quiet is good now-
and I am not tired-

What will be next year-
I cannot know.
All my life is
God's to know-
But I cannot know.

Shalom Freedman

for you

Christmas Gift

To your enemy, forgiveness.
To an opponent, tolerance.
To a friend, your heart.
To a customer, service.
To all, charity.
To every child, a good example.
To yourself, respect.

scraps

Made a quilt out of scraps
A piece of cloth I made for a course
leftover lace
forgotten fabrick

Hello , I am back

Travel to the place
Where mind set to peace,
No one can see,
Feel us free.

Travel to the place
Where we can breathe,
Fill our desire,
We wish; we aspire.

Travel to the place
Where we have silence,
Flower of fragrance,
And nature to admire.

Travel to the place
Where we can write,
Lines of rhyme,
At any time.

Travel to the place
Where we have enough space,
Work without race,
No tension on face.

Travel to the place
Where we can dance,
Sing at glance,
Bit of time to romance.

Travel to the place
Where we spread love,
Freedom to serve
And land to move.

Travel to the place
Where we can live,
Of joy and sprinkle its grace,
And do anything, anywhere.

Divyesh J. Shah

Taking a Blog Break

Look out the window 

see the moon 

and now I will be back to you soon

the middle

 on a fly market I found old linen and lace

stitching and embroidery will be added for the middle  of de dancing dolls

"The Song of the Shirt"

Thomas Hood (1799-1845)

 With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread —
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "Song of the Shirt."

(Silence)

Get some moments for
Silence- close your eyes and feel-
Life speaks for your heart.

Stars

The stitchery s are almost done
Now it is time to think about how to make the borders
I don't  want to make the same borders as the origenal

It is a beautiful quilt but I like to do it different
Stars that is what I am thinking about

Wish to reach those light
'twinkle bright in pretty night',
as I looked up high 

Dance, dance, doll of mine!

Dance, dance, doll of mine!
Girl doll's dress is very fine.
Boy doll is a dandy, too;
He wears gloves and hat and shoe;
White pants, blue coat, him adorn;
On his toe he has a corn.
He is fine and she is fine.
Dance, dance, doll of mine!
Old doll's name is Lise-moér;
She is from the year before;
Hair is new; it's made of flax,
Forehead polished up with wax.
Young again, not old and done.
Come along, my cherished one,
Let us dance a fast gavotte;
To watch it is worth a lot.
Dance, dance, doll of mine!
Watch your steps and get in line;
One foot forward; watch your feet.
Dancing makes you slender, sweet.
Bow and twist and turn around;
That will make you hale and sound.
What a sight it is to see!
You are doing fine, all three.

Baby hedgehoges

The hedgehog in my garden
Is a mother 

she kept it as a secret

But here children want to see the world
I think she has 4 little ones
when I get the change I will make more pictures

they are so cute

Stitching on sunday

Oh elegant grace
Still the waters of the lake
Majesty passes 

sudden evening rain
splashes chill on windowglass
wrinkles on the quilt

Octablom

A little bit Jude a Little bit Mom
together in the octablom quilt

The Spider

The spider weaves a sticky web
To capture bugs to eat.
What keeps the spider's sticky web
From sticking to her feet?
Spider webs are very tricky
Because not all the strands are sticky.
Unlike the passing hapless fly,
The spider knows which strands are dry.
But if she accidentally stands
Upon one of the sticky strands,
She still would not get stuck, you see--
Her oily body slides off free.

Amy Goldman Koss