<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507170" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Patchwork Bonnet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Across the room my silent love I throw,<br>Where you sit sewing in bed by candlelight,<br>Your young stern profile and industrious fingers<br>Displayed against the blind in a shadow-show,<br>To Dinda's grave delight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The needle dips and pokes, the cheerful thread<br>Runs after, follow-my-leader down the seam:<br>The patchwork pieces cry for joy together,<br>O soon to sit as a crown on Dinda's head,<br>Fulfilment of their dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Snippets and odd ends folded by, forgotten,<br>With camphor on a top shelf, hard to find,<br>Now wake to this most happy resurrection,<br>To Dinda playing toss with a reel of cotton<br>And staring at the blind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dinda in sing-song stretching out one hand<br>Calls for the playthings; mother does not hear:<br>Her mind sails far away on a patchwork Ocean,<br>And all the world must wait till she touches land;<br>So Dinda cries in fear,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Mother turns, laughing like a young fairy,<br>And Dinda smiles to see her look so kind,<br>Calls out again for playthings, playthings, playthings;<br>And now the shadows make an Umbrian Mary<br>Adoring, on the blind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Graves">Robert Graves</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507170" data-title="The Patchwork Bonnet de Robert Graves" data-description="Across the room my silent love I throw, Where you sit sewing in bed by candlelight, Your young stern profile and industrious fingers Displayed against the blind in a shadow-show, To Dinda's grave delight. The needle dips and pokes, the cheerful t..."></div> </div> </div>

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