These are the first three pages - not complete yet, I may make small additions - of a little fabric book inspired by a poem written by one of my cousins who died recently. The pages are roughly 5 inches square and it will be a concertina book, not opening left to right but waterfall fashion so that the whole poem can be read at once.
I bought these tiny garden tools years ago - 10 or 12 maybe - and knew I'd find a use for them one day! I think the dibber might make a nice closure for the book and the trowel and fork will be added to one of the pages.
I have a garden of my own
and in it are some seeds I've sown
like cornflowers, pansies, pinks and stocks,
forget-me-nots and hollyhocks.
For weeks and weeks I've paid attention
to my garden, not to mention
all the watering required.
And so I'm feeling rather tired.
I think how lovely it will be
when all my flowers are there to see.
With colours yellow, pink and blue,
the air will all be scented too.
Ah, now at last my plants have grown
but nowhere are the ones I've sown.
Instead the garden's full of thistles,
daisies, clover, stinging nettles.
But what is this before my eyes?
The sky is full of butterflies.
They flutter down, they love my weeds
and so do all the birds and bees.
With butterflies red, white and blue,
with buzzing bees and songbirds too,
I sit and gaze all summer long.
Can next year all my seeds go wrong?
I know I ought to try and centre the poem but am to scared to try. I might lose the whole thing and have to start again, besides which it's lunchtime and I'm hungry!