Tue
13
Nov '07
Grand Opening Contest!
To celebrate the opening of Perfect Day Yarns we are having a contest!
One lucky person will win-
- -The choice of a 4oz/440yard skein of our Free Verse Sock in either Rose-Lipt Maiden or Frolic in the Park (whichever skein not chosen will be put up in the shop)
- -a set of 5 hand made stitchmarkers, light weight and small, fit up to a US3 needle
- -a set of size US1 bamboo DPNS
- -a fun, colorful pouch perfect for notions and/or knitting accessories
- -and some local candy! (not photographed)
All you have to do is leave me a comment to this post telling me what your favorite poem or least favorite poem is. That’s it! If you don’t like poetry at all then let me know why. 
The contest will run till 11:59pm Sunday Nov. 18th and the winner will be picked using a random number generator.
Also, a reminder that I have more yarn on the way, so stop by often for restocking of colorways, new yarn base and new colorways!
November 14th, 2007 at 3:31 am
Congratulations on the new shop! I love the idea of naming yarns after poems. (Woods and Frozen Lake is lovely.)
My favorite poem - Hope, by Emily dickinson
http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/english/melani/cs6/hope.html
November 14th, 2007 at 3:49 am
I’m so proud of you for doing this, girl! Your yarns are gorgeous!
My favorite poem is Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda:
I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close
November 14th, 2007 at 4:13 am
I love Emily Dickinson and in particular love this untitled poem:
Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.
November 14th, 2007 at 4:13 am
Okay, I have three absolute favorites.
I love, love, love the poem “Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind” by Shakespeare. It’s very out of character for me (I’m a very optimistic person), but my choir sang it once, and I was hooked. It was such a beautiful song.
I also love The Jabberwocky. I think it’s genius in all its totally made-up-ness, and it was also a really fun song to sing (hah, I was such a choir nerd).
And finally, there’s one poem by V.J. Rajadhon that I can’t resist. It goes:
Time is the enemy of love,
The thief that shortens
All our golden hours.
I have never understood then
Why lovers count their happiness
In days and nights and years,
While our love can only be measured
In our joys and sighs and tears.
November 14th, 2007 at 4:15 am
congratulations, hon! Now, I have to say that honestly, I am not a fan of poetry and that is because I wasn’t properly introduced to it. It was just glazed over when I was in school. I didn’t ‘get it.’ I wanted to get into stuff like Robert Frost or Emily Dickinson but just didn’t have the tools or the guidance even to help me become a lover of poetry. What’s funny is because of my lack of experience being directly exposed and taught the elements of poetry, I’m very big on at least trying to incorporate poetry into my teaching.
November 14th, 2007 at 5:13 am
Yey! I have been waiting for you to announce this site
And I have two favorite poems:
I, Too by Langston Hughes
and
Dulce Et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen
November 14th, 2007 at 5:28 am
Congrats on the business Sarah!
I have quite a few poems that I love, but I have to say that Annabel Lee by Poe and… Well, it’s not really a poem, but they rhyme, The Gashleycrumb Tinies by Edward Gorey. It’s a book, but all the stuff rhymes. LoL
Again, congrats!
November 14th, 2007 at 5:30 am
Gorgeous yarn!
My favorite poem:
Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s hungry breast;
A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree!
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse
Joyce Kilmer
November 14th, 2007 at 6:22 am
I love e.e.cummings and how he plays with words, and my favourite poem is “in just-”
in just-
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame baloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it’s
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old baloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it’s
spring
and
the
goat-footed
baloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
November 14th, 2007 at 7:47 am
Here’s wishing you a lot of success with the business - the yarns look wonderful!
My favourite poem at present is
John Keats - To Autumn
I
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
II
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
III
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
November 14th, 2007 at 10:03 am
My favorite poem is on that I wrote, entitled “Affair” . It can be found here, http://www.poetry.com/Publications/display.asp?ID=P2115858&BN=999&PN=1
November 14th, 2007 at 10:03 am
Oh, I forgot to add that I live in Italy,,, can I still play?
November 14th, 2007 at 12:14 pm
Sea Fever. by John Masefield. I’ve lived near the coast, near the ocean all my life, and have always felt the “pull.”
And whenever I’ve read this poem, including this morning, I’ve always felt a chill, a lonely feeling, as though he’s explaining this “pull,” this “need,” this “compulsion” to go back to the sea perhaps to a wife/lover that he must leave behind.
November 14th, 2007 at 12:48 pm
Yay, Sarah!! I’m so proud of you for doing this! (And so excited to see what else you come up with. Your colors are awesome!!)
I’m not real original. I love poetry, but honestly, haven’t read much in a long, long time. One of my favorites from h.s. on was (and is) Footprints. Something about it just speaks to me (and I’m not much of a religious person).
Now, if you don’t rig this one to make me win, I’m taking my other yarn and going home!
November 14th, 2007 at 1:00 pm
Once there was an elephant
Who tried to use a telephant.
Oh no, I mean an elephone
Who tried to use a telephone.
(Oh,dear… I’m not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right!)
How e’re it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk
The more he tried to get it free
The louder buzzed the telephee.
(I fear I better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong.)
November 14th, 2007 at 1:11 pm
Congrats on your new shop. I wish you the best. I’m not a big fan of poetry. It remind me of poetry in Highschool English. I could not ever figure out what the poet was trying to say. However, I love knitting, so I went searching for poem about knitting. I found this one. I like the idea of a child knitting and continuing to knit for her baby as an adult.
I was not a childhood knitter.
Knitting.
An old-time kitchen, an open door,
Sunshine lying across the floor;
A little maid, feet bare and brown,
Cheeks like roses, a cotton gown,
Rippling masses of shining hair,
And a childish forehead smooth and fair.
The child is knitting. The open door
Wooes her, tempts her, more and more.
The sky is cloudless, the air is sweet
And sadly restless the bare brown feet..
Still,’ as she wishes her task were done,
She counts the rounds off, one by one.
Higher yet mounts the sun or June;
But one round more!___a joyous tune
Ripples out from the childish lips,
While swift and swifter the finger-tips
Play out and in, till I hear her say,
“Twenty rounds! I’m going to play!”
Up to the hedge where the sweet-brier blows,
Down to the bank where the brooklet flows,
Chasing the butterflies, watching the bees,
Wading in clover up to her knees,
Mocking the bobolinks; oh, what fun
It is to be free when the task is done!
Years and years have glided away.
The child is a woman, and threads of gray
One by one creep into her hair,
And I see the prints of the feet of care.
Yet I like to watch tier. To-night she sits
By her household fire, and as then she knits.
Swiftly the needles glance, and the thread
Glides through her fingers, white and red.
‘Tis a baby’s stocking. To and fro
And out and in as the needles go,
She sings as she sang that day in June,
But the low, soft strain is a nursery tune.
Closely beside her the baby lies,
Slowly closing his sleepy eyes.
Forward, backward, the cradle swings,
Touched by her foot as she softly sings.
And now in silence her watch she keeps;
The song is hushed, for the baby sleeps.
Up from the green, through the twilight gray,
Comes the shoats of a troop at play.
Blue eyes, black eyes, golden curls -
These are all hers___her boys and girls.
Then wonder not at the prints of care,
Or the silver threads in her braided hair.
Does she ever pine for the meadow brook,
The sweet-brier hedge, the clover nook?
When sweet winds woo, when smiles the sun,
Does she ever wish that her task was done?
Would you know? Then watch her where she sits
Smiling dreamily, while she knits.
__Ellen P. Allerton.
November 14th, 2007 at 1:18 pm
It’s beautiful Sarah! Congratulations.
The poem that most often comes into my head is Jabberwocky- I just love nonsense words and how they roll on the tongue.
November 14th, 2007 at 2:36 pm
The site is wonderful!! Congrats on opening your store. I will have to put your site on my Christmas List.
I memorized my favorite poem years ago because someone said that you should always be able to recite when needed.
My favorite poem is the Road not taken by Robert Frost.
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back;
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
This poem has been an inspiration in my life!! Good luck with your store.
November 14th, 2007 at 3:01 pm
I don’t know if it’s really a poem, but I love Desiderata. Such awesome words to live by.
November 14th, 2007 at 3:08 pm
congratulations on the new shop! rhoda sent me over here! : )
i am going to tell you about my least favorite poem. it involves a little story: on the first day of the seventh grade, we walked into life science class and the teacher gave us an assignment. we had to memorize the poem on the board and each recite it to the class a few days later for a grade. as it turns out, this same teacher actually wrote the poem. but anyway, over eight years later i still remember this poem and i somehow doubt i will ever forget it.
politeness
by my seventh grade life science teacher
it is nice to say good morning
to begin a happy day.
it is nice to say good evening
at the end of work or play.
it is nice to say excuse me
so there will be no fight.
what a nice world it would be
if all people were polite.
by the way, i got an A+ on that recitation. apparently i took pauses in just the right places. : )
November 14th, 2007 at 4:31 pm
Congratulations, Sarah!!!
I am not a poetry person. I do like to write the occassional haiku or limerick. Because of your new business, I will now write a haiku for you:
Sarah I love your yarn
I may have to buy some now
It is too pretty!
November 14th, 2007 at 5:03 pm
Very pretty yarn and congrats on the new shop! I love poetry and it’s so hard to pick just one. With the new Ravens from Blue Moon I have not been able to get it Edgar Ellen Poe out of my head lately! Every time I turn around I hear him knocking, knocking, knocking at my door!
November 14th, 2007 at 5:54 pm
I love Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
I always recite this in the fall when the leaves begin to turn to gold. Congrats on the new venture!
November 14th, 2007 at 6:16 pm
My fav. poem is Marriage by Gregory Corso. My dad used to recite the WHOLE thing to be as a little child. Oh the fond memories!
http://www.litkicks.com/Texts/Marriage.html
I am posting about your contest on my blog.
November 14th, 2007 at 7:33 pm
What beautiful yarn.
If you look at my blog, and on Ravelry etc, you’ll see that my favourite colour is purple (hence me loving your Frolic in the Park yarn!).
With that in mind, you will not be surprised to know that my favourite poem is “When I am an old woman” by Jenny Joseph
—–
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
November 14th, 2007 at 7:58 pm
Wow your yarn is gorgeous!
My favorite poen is SICK by Shel Silverstein.
It starts off as…
I cannot go to school today
said little Peggy Ann McKay.
I have the measles and the mumps
a rash, a gash, and chicken bumps…
and it ends with:
what? what’s that you say?
You say today is Saturday?
Goodbye, I’m going out to play!
I love Shel Silverstein.
Congrats and good luck!
November 14th, 2007 at 9:05 pm
Love your yarns! I was an English major many years ago, so it’s impossible to pick just one favorite. This poem, Wild Geese by Mary Oliver, is an old favorite that has a lot of meaning for me.
Good luck with your new venture.
Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
November 14th, 2007 at 9:09 pm
Congrats on the new shop!
One of my favorite poets is Carl Sandburg. I just discovered this poem by him and think it’s really cute:
Sheep by Carl Sandburg
Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep–
one by one going up the hill and over the fence–one by
one four-footed pattering up and over–one by one wiggling
their stub tails as they take the short jump and go
over–one by one silently unless for the multitudinous
drumming of their hoofs as they move on and go over–
thousands and thousands of them in the grey haze of
evening just after sundown–one by one slanting in a
long line to pass over the hill–
I am the slow, long-legged Sleepyman and I love you
sheep in Persia, California, Argentine, Australia, or
Spain–you are the thoughts that help me when I, the
Sleepyman, lay my hands on the eyelids of the children
of the world at eight o’clock every night–you thousands
and thousands of sheep in a procession of dusk making
an endless multitudinous drumming on the hills with
your hoofs.
November 14th, 2007 at 10:18 pm
I saw Four Weddings and a Funeral again last and Funeral Blues always tears my heart apart. My husband also thinks it is beautiful.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/funeral-blues-2/
A childhood favourite which I still love to read aloud is The Owl and the Pussycat.
http://www.nonsenselit.org/Lear/ns/pussy.html
Good luck with the new enterprise. The site is lovely as are the products.
November 14th, 2007 at 10:36 pm
My favorite poem is by Christina Rossetti; actually, the last stanza of her “A Christmas Carol”
“What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,–
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.”
Congratulations and best wishes on your new venture!!!
November 15th, 2007 at 12:21 am
My husband is a post-modern realist poet (when he’s not working to pay the bills, that is). Myself? I’m not so much for the poetry. When we first met, he tried to get me talking about any kind of poetry…Yeats, ee cummings…anyone. What did I do? Recited a dirty limerick.
Yep.
Now, when I’m requesting information from our front-line Tech Support Reps at work, I often phrase it in the form of Haiku, just for kicks. I’m perverse that way.
But poetry? For me, poetry is my husband relating the seedy underside of a downtown office building, or an encounter with a transsexual on the bus. It’s bizarre, and it’s not your normal form of communication, but it’s the world from his point of view…and that’s what makes it all the more precious.
November 15th, 2007 at 1:09 am
Congratulations! I’m so happy for you and I can’t wait to get my new yarn!
Let’s see…favorite poem. It changes frequently. Right now I’m loving Sea-Fever by John Masefield.
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
November 15th, 2007 at 1:30 am
Sarah, I’m so excited about your shop. I can’t wait to order when you make more of the yarn I want.
I didn’t read poetry as a kid, I loved to read but didn’t learn appreciate poetry until I became an adult. I’ve often said to Eric that as soon as Dominic can use his imagination (instead of pictures) durning storytime that I will read him poems. Hopefully he’ll apprciate them earlier than I did.
~j
November 15th, 2007 at 3:34 am
I am not a fan of poetry, simply because I never get it. I’ve never really understood how it works either, even after being in Enriched English classes in high school!
Good luck with the opening!
November 15th, 2007 at 3:49 am
My favorite poem is titled ” Baby Tears” it is my favorite because when I delivered my daughter stillborn, 20 years ago, this poem was given to me on a plaque and it brought me great comfort and I have been able to share this often to others in the same situation ever since. Don’t read it if you don’t want to cry.
November 15th, 2007 at 6:03 am
My favorite poem is Eletelephony by Laura Elizabeth Richards
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant–
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone–
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right).
Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee–
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)
Certainly not very highbrow, but my father loved to read it with me when I was little.
November 15th, 2007 at 2:44 pm
My favorite poem is by Yeats– “The Second Coming.”: …”The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.”
November 15th, 2007 at 3:46 pm
Congratulations on opening your shop! My favorite Poem is Portrait of the Artist by Dorothy Parker.
Oh, lead me to a quiet cell
Where never footfall rankles,
And bar the window passing well,
And gyve my wrists and ankles.
Oh, wrap my eyes with linen fair,
With hempen cord go bind me,
And, of your mercy, leave me there,
Nor tell them where to find me.
Oh, lock the portal as you go,
And see its bolts be double….
Come back in half an hour or so,
And I will be in trouble.
November 15th, 2007 at 4:53 pm
Huzzah!! Congrats on getting everything up and running, Sarah!!
My favourite poem is Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference
November 15th, 2007 at 7:00 pm
The site looks lovely! (I’m Phaedra’s friend btw)I can’t wait to order! Ok, my favorite poem is quite long so I won’t post it… I Sing the Body Electric by Walt Whitman.
November 15th, 2007 at 7:03 pm
I have nothing against poetry, but don’t read it so I haven’t a favorite.
The yarn is beautiful!!
November 15th, 2007 at 8:17 pm
The site is as gorgeous as your yarn! As for my favorite poem… it is so hard to pick just one. I love poetry. I’ll just pick one from my favorite poet, how’s that?
30 Cents, Two Transfers, Love - by Richard Brautigan
Thinking hard about you
I got on the bus
and paid 30 cents car fare
and asked the driver for two transfers
before discovering
that I was
alone.
November 15th, 2007 at 9:45 pm
My favorite poem is one written by my daughter for a contest last year at her elementary school. She was one of 2 first graders selected to each lunch with a visiting author/poet (Brod Bagert) This is her poem.
Roller Skating
I love the way the wheels go ’round
until I fall and hit the ground.
I get back up and hold the wall.
I’m doing great until I fall.
I get back up and aim for the door,
I go too fast and hit the floor.
I get back up, I’m finally going,
Oh no! But wait,
How do I start slowing?
My mom comes in to help me out,
because she heard me start to shout.
We keep on track until we bump,
and then we fall down in a slump.
‘Who let the dogs out?’ came on the speakers.
I take off my skates and change into sneakers!
November 15th, 2007 at 10:44 pm
I couldn’t find my favorite poem, but this is a very close second. I have come to appreciate it far more now than when I first read it several, several years ago.
The Life I Dreamed Of
She came tonight as I sat alone
The girl that I used to be…
And she gazed at me with her earnest eye
and questioned reproachfully.
Have you forgotten the many plans
And hopes that I had for you?
The great career, the splendid fame
All the wonderful things to do?
Where is the mansion of stately height
With all of its gardens rare?
The silken robes that I dreamed for you
And the jewels for dressing your hair?
And as she spoke, I was very sad,
For I wanted her pleased with me…
This slender girl from the shadowy past
The girl I used to be.
So gently arising, I took her hand,
And guided her up the stair
Where peacefully sleeping, my babies lay
Innocent, sweet and fair.
And I told her that these are my own gems,
and precious they are to me;
The silken robe is my motherhood
Of costly simplicity.
And my mansion of stately height is Love,
And the only career I know;
Is serving each day in these sheltering walls
For the dear ones who come and go.
And as I spoke to my shadowy guest,
She smiled through her tears at me;
And I saw that the woman that I am now
Pleased the girl that I used to be.
Author Unknown
November 15th, 2007 at 11:31 pm
Since I was a kid, I loved poems by Shel Silverstein.
It is really hard to choose - between Sick or Messy Room.
November 15th, 2007 at 11:43 pm
How did I not know about this?!? Congratulations!!
My favorite poem is Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken.
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
November 16th, 2007 at 12:32 am
My favorite poem is from Gertrude Stein’s “Tender Buttons:”
A BOX.
Out of kindness comes redness and out of rudeness comes rapid same question, out of an eye comes research, out of selection comes painful cattle. So then the order is that a white way of being round is something suggesting a pin and is it disappointing, it is not, it is so rudimentary to be analysed and see a fine substance strangely, it is so earnest to have a green point not to red but to point again.
November 16th, 2007 at 3:07 am
Congratulations on the new shop. I think that the poem idea for naming yarns is great. My favorite poem is Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant.
November 16th, 2007 at 3:41 pm
I have many favorite poems - very hard to choose just one, but how about:
Dreams
by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
November 16th, 2007 at 4:55 pm
Congratulations an all the best for your shop!
I wish we (here in Hungary) would have more knitting shops, that stores more variety of yars. Yars from more natural fibers.. Almost everything that is available here is all acrlilic…yuck, takes away my desire for knit or crochet…
BTW my favorite poem, is a Hungarian one.
It was wrtitten in the 1840-es called John the Valiant, it is abot a poor parentless kid, found on the cornfield, becoming a sheapherder, then later have to leave his village and the girl he loves. He becomes a huszar, fights for th efrencj kings, vins the hand of the princess, but he rather goes home to find his old love… only to find her buried… he takes a rose from her grave then goes onto other adventures which ends on an island in the endless ocean, the island of the fairies… there he find the lake of life, throws the rose in and wants to follow it, but his love ressurects.. both of them are so beautiful that the fairies elects them king and queen of the fairies and they live happily ever after… This is the short of it, but it is really a long , but lovely poem…
November 17th, 2007 at 1:11 am
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
- My fave poem!
November 17th, 2007 at 2:21 am
My favourite poem changes often, and sometimes, like now, I don’t have one at all.
My least favourite poem also changes often, but I do have one of those right now: “The Flea,” by John Donne. Due to a recent conversation with some of the stranger people I know at university, it now creeps me out even more than it did before.
November 17th, 2007 at 6:29 am
Here’s my favourite poem: My Baby Brother
by Bruce Lansky
My baby brother is so small,
he’s hardly even there at all.
The only way that we can find him
is by the smell he leaves behind him.
Congratulations on the new shop! Best of Luck!
Ann
November 17th, 2007 at 2:27 pm
I’m a fan of Ogden Nash
THE OCTOPUS
Tell me, O Octopus, I begs
Is those things arms, or is they legs?
I marvel at thee, Octopus;
If I were thou, I’d call me Us.
November 18th, 2007 at 8:06 am
I love your breautiful dyed yarns! I would really like to have some of your celestial sticth holders for crocheting! I saw the ones you made especially made for my daughter Jennah. You are so creative!
One of my favorites is “Where The Heart Is” by Catrice Williams. It’s featured in “Home Ideals” magazine, vol.47.No.5
November 18th, 2007 at 2:14 pm
Congratulations……..Hope you have many sales…..Love the yarns, I wish I was so talented.
My favorite is
HOPE by Krantol Northic
Hope is the sweet, sweet scent of flowers in the morning
Hope is the cool gentle breeze on a warm summer’s day
Hope is the knowledge of stability from a son in mourning
Hope is the bright shining light keeping darkness at bay
Hope is the calming warmth during a cold winter
Hope is the determination of an athelete on the track
Hope is the potential of a newborn baby
Hope is the love between you and me
Hope springs eternal
November 18th, 2007 at 4:41 pm
put me in the list of those who love eletelephony, it came to mind immediately, as it’s the only poem i have memorized, but i can’t believe others listed it, too! hee hee!
i’m also a big fan of shel silverstein, but i can’t think of any specific titles, right now.
good luck to you, sarah.
November 19th, 2007 at 1:52 am
Throw me in, if it’s not too late.
Congrats on the new business. You’re going to do great.
November 19th, 2007 at 2:05 am
I’m Nobody! Who are You?
by Emily Dickinson
I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us -don’t tell!
They’d banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
November 19th, 2007 at 2:43 am
Hi Sarah! I love the site, it looks so great! I have two favorite poems. The first is an e.e. cummings poem:
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
My other favorite poem is “Around the Corner” - I remember reading it as a child. It’s kind of sad but powerful, I guess I like it a lot because I remember reading it from my sister’s poetry book at age 6 and I remember I brought it in to read for show and tell in first grade
It is by Charles Hanson Towne and here it is:
Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.
And I never see my old friend’s face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.
And he rang mine but we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
“Tomorrow” I say! “I will call on Jim
Just to show that I’m thinking of him.”
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner, yet miles away,
“Here’s a telegram sir,”…. “Jim died today.”
And that’s what we get, and deserve in the end:
Around the corner, a vanished friend.
December 2nd, 2007 at 5:22 am
[...] perfect day yarns and i was lucky enough to get chosen by the random number generator. look at the goodies that will be coming my way! i chose the rose lipt maiden (pink) colorway…. [...]