Poem inspired by the Kimberton Hills Weavery

Many thanks to our friend, Karen Izzi, for this beautiful poem:

Late afternoon I visit the weavery at Kimberton Hills

A last bit of sun peeks through the window sheer.

Caught in awe at the works of art left on the looms

The entire room creeks and echoes

As my body passes over old hardwood.

I cannot help but sense the energy in this room

Colors brightly project the meaning of things

And rush a chill, even on this humid evening.

Projects left undone, waiting for tomorrow

Wool draped over crystal door knobs and work benches sit uninhibited.

Thin denim strips dangle and colorful thread longs to be decided upon.

Lonely whites and naturals stay on their shelf, quiet.

I pass my fingers over them.

Knitting needles abandoned for suppertime dishes

Now rest in a ceramic cup.

I notice hand woven baskets holding bits of yarn and fabric

Offering them a safe place to rest.

Quite a nice break in the day, for me

As I pay respect to the artists that work here.

 © Karen Izzi, PhD 2013