Out of the mouths of babes . . .
I was filing in my office tonight and came across a poem that my friend Rebecca sent me when The Stumpwork Robe was released. It was written by her daughter Rachel a number of years ago, when Rachel was only ten.
I remembered thinking at the time, that deep inside that child at the age of ten, was a writer or poet waiting to get out. rachel is now at university and I can’t wait to see which direction her life will take. I love this poem and feel it is almost the plot outline of The Stumpwork Robe and it’s companion volume The Last Stitch in two tightly written verses.
Seamstress
Her silver needle is her magic wand,
her thread, a magic carpet
Weaving in and out of the fine cloth
Creating stitches so small and delicate they could be a fairy’s footsteps
on the edge of her creation.
She removes the pins from the bodice,
releasing the knights
that have guarded her domain
Freeing it to a destiny
she cannot follow.
Really lovely poem! And…as someone who sews quite a bit…captures a bit of the confinement and freedom of that process. Thanks to Rachel for writing and thanks to you for posting!
It is a beautiful poem. Likewise as an embroiderer I felt it described the magic of working with stitch and fabric beautifully.
But what is amazing is that Rachel wrote that nine or ten years ago and I only met her mother last year . . . and it encapsulates the storyline of my books exactly.
Sometimes Fate plays odd games, doesn’t it?