The Locust Blossom

And there by the fire

while the snow outside whirled and danced,

while the woodwinds played their song,

and while onlookers watched,

she sat.

She sat, though hands not idle~

As the old adage goes.

Dreaming of warmth 

and facing the sun with closed eyes

in order to better hear

the sound of spring,

in order to better smell

the buds unfurl,

in order to bask

in all that's joyous,

she dreams, mind's not idle either~

And here

she comes to an end

and a beginning.

Finished another block of the wool crazy quilt.

On to the next.

Until next time,

Nimble Fingers and Even Stitches