Thistle Down

By Ethel

730

"It is my wish that each one of you can know me by my words, for my words are a cloak that covers, with a slow trickle of meaning coming from my mind. Slowly...ever so slowly do words come out in lines that are not made to be equal to every day thinking. They are a gift that all men can express, if they will but take the time.

The more time you take...the more beautiful they are. Thought can wind and re-wind in a beautiful way, each time improving the texture of a lovely phrase. Words stay tucked in, and if you can once get them turned loose, sometimes they are hard to stop."


Poetry of Claudia Ethel Womack Pickett 1908 - 1989

Photography by Ethel's Granddaughter, Leslie Gay Hunter Miller 1954 -

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