by artfumbles on December 11, 2011
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet
birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
Mary Elizabeth Frye.
I needle felted this for my son using saved hair from his beloved dog. She really was a beautiful dog and is missed very much.
by artfumbles on November 19, 2011
Vanity doesn’t fade away.
My entry for Illustration Friday
by artfumbles on November 1, 2011
by artfumbles on October 30, 2011
by artfumbles on October 7, 2011
There once was a philosopher named Grice.
Who might have been awfully nice.
He said: ‘Say what you mean, keep it precise.
Keep to the point, make it concise.
Use my maxims: Quality, Quantitiy, Manner and Relation,
And with all things considered plus implication,
We should have an interesting conversation.’
©Tina Harkin 2011
For fellow students struggling with studying ‘The Art of English’ with the Open University.
by artfumbles on September 28, 2011
Somehow I managed to come off worse when the mat and I had a difference of opinion – my toe is still poorly 3 weeks later.
In relating the incident to various friends I found myself giving the mat a persona. At first it was the baddie but by the time I came to write the poem I found it had taken on the position of ‘doormat.’ All doormats need to ‘speak up for themselves’ and show they count. My mat had obviously got fed-up with always being taken for granted and trodden on.
