I thinkthis is finished, I have said this about ten times over this weekend and each time I have gone back to a dd a little more. I have added a little suprise to it under the bead that is supposed to represent the crystal ball.
I still am amazed how the piece took on its own identity and suddenly found myself thinking of a poem from childhood, I could only remember the line "Old Meg she was a gipsy..." I had to look it up and found it was a poem by John Keats called Meg Merrilees. Just incase you can't remeber it all this is it.
Old Meg she was a Gipsy,
And liv'd upon the Moors:
Her bed it was the brown heath turf,
And her house was out of doors.
Her apples were swart blackberries,
Her currants pods o' broom;
Her wine was dew of the wild white rose,
Her book a churchyard tomb.
Her Brothers were the craggy hills,
Her Sisters larchen trees--
Alone with her great family
She liv'd as she did please.
No breakfast had she many a morn,
No dinner many a noon,
And 'stead of supper she would stare
Full hard against the Moon.
But every morn of woodbine fresh
She made her garlanding,
And every night the dark glen Yew
She wove, and she would sing.
And with her fingers old and brown
She plaited Mats o' Rushes,
And gave them to the Cottagers
She met among the Bushes.
Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen
And tall as Amazon:
An old red blanket cloak she wore;
A chip hat had she on.
God rest her aged bones somewhere--
She died full long agone!
I wish I had remebered it earlier because it would have helped with the motifs. Perhaps another day......
