QUEEN'S LACE The vacant land around our house But - standing taller than the rest, Has folded, like a cup, When youthful beauty's fled? Florence B. Taylor ****************************************** This thought came to me last week, as I sat looking out of our north window - upon this vacant land - about 100 feet in width. There is a great deal more, to the south of us. I never realized before that "brown and sere" weeds could be interesting. At every snowfall - of soft and clinging texture - Queen's Lace looks like the cotton boll of the South - except for its brown stem. The burdocks on the south of us - with their burrs, present a problem to our woolly pup. Wanted: One good curry comb.
More next week.
Sincerely,
Is full of divers weeds;
The golden-rod, milk-weed, tall grass
Each with its countless seeds.
With lovely summer face,
Still standing - staunch - through winter storms,
Its lacy doily, now turned brown,
To catch soft snowflakes as they fall
Like cotton piling up.
Oh, could our lives be like Queen's Lace,
Could we be chalices, to hold
The dainty "weed", Queen's Lace,
God's love and grace instead?
Florence B. Taylor
1440 Gordon Rd.