This is a re-blog while I am hard at the revision process. And many of the poems that have appeared in second or third draft here are getting remade and reshaped, some with subtle tinkering and some with complete repurposing. And some off cuts are getting a new life of their own in another poem. Even this poem has been re-jigged. The August 12th version is slightly different if you are interested in that sort thing – process – and want to take a look.
I especially wanted to re-blog this particular poem as a tribute to my Friday morning textile art teacher, Morag Donald, and the women who I am getting to know in my community as we needle felt, weave, and collaborate in creating art work, relaxation and connection. We meet in Dowra Courthouse from 10am until noon. We have tea, biscuits and a talking stick. Come on down!
This was originally written #30DaysOfSummerWritingChallenge. It was Day12 and the prompt was ‘Cruel Summer.’ I did write a tanka(ish) five liner on the theme. But what really was itching to flow from my pen came when the phrase “the Republic of Crochet” popped into my head. Our niece, an ardent crochet practitioner, had been here over the weekend pet sitting. But we had also had conversations about a community art projects and some of her own envisioning that would use crochet as its medium.
Textile art rocks!
The Republic of Crochet
For Hannah Daisy
Flowerchild conceived long after The Summer of Love,
your flower power blankets us with
'Chain Stitch One,Chain Two, Chain Three,' linking
us softly in wool.
Everyone loves a flower. Who can resist them?
Petal confetti love bombs us.
But in crochet. Single
stitches mend us one at a time -
the lonely, the odd,
the angry for lack of some love -
with a flower, or a blanket,
some soft wooly love.
Copyright © 2019 Bee Smith. All rights reserved.