Hazel Hall, 1886-1924, USA.
Needle, you make me remember things…
A path through a wood that ran like wine,
A turn, and the bubbling smell that clings
Close as breath to the lips of springs
Where the sun is sprinkled fine.
Needle, you have a path to run
Where never the boughs of trees have met
And never has seeped the rain of the sun;
But long is the way you have just begun…
Needle, you make me forget.”
Source: The Collected Poems of Hazel Hall. OSU Press, 2000, Oregon, USA.
I’ld like to share this poem because it shows how I feel about my needlework. I discovered the work of Hazel Hall a few years ago, and bought her book with collected poems. She wrote a lot of poems about her work as a seamstress an needlework.
Poems with this quality about needlework are so rare.
In the future I will share more poems of Hazel Hall on this blog.
If you would like to know more about her: