A Song for the Least of All Saints

Love is the key of life and death,
Of hidden heavenly mystery:
Of all Christ is, of all He saith,
Love is the key.

As three times to His Saint He saith,
He saith to me, He saith to thee,
Breathing His Grace-conferring Breath
'Lovest thou me?'

Ah, Lord, I have such feeble faith,
Such feeble hope to comfort me:
But love it is, is strong as death,
And I love Thee.

Christina Rossetti

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Rose Trellis Bag

Forget-me-Not Handkerchief

Stitches and DMC thread used: Satin stitch leaves in 368 and 647 Stem stitch stems in the same Granitos blossoms in 3326 and 3835 Long and short forget-me-nots in 825, 813, 162, 3078 Long and short dark forget-me-not in 825, 826, 827, and 3078 Long and short pink blossoms in 3326, 3835, 818, and 3078 Long and shorted muted purple blossom in 3835 and 647

On My Trappist Rock in Spring

Verdant and solid, the ground reappears when the sun wears the Circlet, Tying year's end to new year's beginning; and meekly the waters give over. Silently ceasing the siege, till dappled and calm, running smoothly, Leisurely hurrying past to the sound of its own cheerful singing, Rippling and simmering, no end in sight, a river unwinding. Sunbeam nor eye nor stem or rock can resist the resistless Pull of its mighty inexorable weight; born on its broad back, Leaning low 'neath the current. Surging past the rocks it once covered, Breaking the flow to pause till it dips and slides round the turning.

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