UnevenI am an uneven weave. I have a strange thread count, one that never quite has enough to make a strong blanket, a beautiful throw, or a designer shirt. I have holes that stretch and strain as I am pulled this way and that, forward and backward, twisted to fit the wearer.Uneven by HeadmistressMercedes
But, despite my poor quality, my low level of production, I will do my damnedest to make sure you are covered. That there is something to shroud your skin from the wind and the cold, even if my seams are not straight. I will be the cloth that you don when you need that one last layer to chase away the chill of the day, or be the final comfort to an evening where the fire is our only friend, and the moon, our constant scrutinizing eye.
I cannot be called pretty, but to some, I am beautiful. I cannot be called the best, but to a few, I am first-class. I cannot be called quality, but there are those who praise my dedication and hold me high on the pedestal for all to admire.
I am uneven.
And in that, I am perfect.
WinterfallsThe endless flow immobile.Winterfalls by HeadmistressMercedes
Waterfalls coveted by Winter's sun
now stand solid in the jealous grasp of Lady Frost.
The Lady of the LakeThe lady of the lake,The Lady of the Lake by XxQuothTheRavenxX
That enters stiffly,
Swims with open arms--
Teetering absently before your misfortune;
Like lilies that tangle--
Sweeping stardust under foot;
For Augusts laughter can scarcely sing;
Absently she delegates the breathe of summer;
Nimble are the fingertips that caress your dignity,
Onward she sleeps for vanity--
Until heaven held her far.
Family FeudBig Sister is screaming again.Family Feud by HeadmistressMercedes
In a torrent of ice and hail, she is fuming and yelling, causing cold to blast from her mouth and through the room. Dear Mother is trying to calm her, to lead her to nap time, but Big Sister is struggling and weeping frosty tears from bright blue eyes. She doesn't want to nap. She's been allowed to play for far too long. It's Baby's turn, Mother shushes, but more tears come. More ice, more cries far and loud, more frosty flailing that sprays snow to the four winds.
Big Sister is screaming again.
A pair of big, doe-brown eyes peeps around the corner. She watches, in silence, the frigid display her sibling puts on for show. She's all ready: little sun dress bright with the coming blooms, hair smelling like the fresh earth, little shoes ready to walk the garden paths and hands warm like a pale May sun. She was certain...it was HER turn to play now, wasn't it?
Big Sister always puts up such a fuss.
She peers around the door to the living room, and stares in h
| is a Group for people that love Atlantic Canada. New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, & Newfoundland & Labrador. |
You do not have to be a Resident of the four provinces,only share in our love and appreciation of all they have to offer.
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