metal and piercing. it can prod around inside of you, burning like ice. it can be the first thing you ever hurt yourself with, without a thimble, or sitting on a toilet, crying.
in a haystack, it’s sharp and hard to find. so/sew, a needle pulling thread — like in the sound of music. i needle my brother when he can’t take it. now he can take it though and we’re best friends. needle is the name of arya’s sword in a song of ice and fire. needles are shiny and metal except when they are made from bone or wood.
Thorn eyed the boy with a sudden curiosity. “So you’re saying…. that if I were to take this needle,” she twirled the small piece of metal carefully between her fingers. “And introduce it to, oh say your eye, You wouldn’t react at all?” The boy looked at her with a dull expression, as if to answer her correct. Thorn grinned. “Shall we, then?”
pulling thread, a note to follow so, tea a drink with jam and bread that will bring us bac to do oh ho oh. finding one in a haystack is supposedly very difficult…my guess is, its more dense…it falls to the bottom if you shake out the hay…im not saying it will be quick, but it isnt so hard. sew the heart back together.
comprei uma agulha, espetei num pulha que tentava roubar uma senhora adulta
paguei a multa des estacionamento, a culpa nao e minha lamento
prometo ser um melhor exemplo
In my eyes. They are piercing everything in sight. They are sewing up my soul with a thick woven thread which is stronger than spider web. Needle pressing its point home anyway it can and leaving puncture marks on my eyelids as it pierces.
press to skin, break through and pen into me
endless colours like a fierce rainbow outpouring from my heart
less to be said than shown, less to be shown than felt
in the end, you are lost in the haystack
in the end, you are never alone
Voorzichtig stak ze de naald door de dunnen stof, keek hoe het zilveren kopje er doorheen kwam. Ze trok het ding er helemaal doorheen, zag hoe het garen strak getrokken werd. Tevreden bekeek Kira het eindresultaat. Het voodoopoppetje was het evenbeeld van hem.
With all of this hay around me, I’d say I’m safely hidden. Cuddling in the warm, yellow grains, I don’t mind that it’s a little dark. Will they find me? Maybe. Hopefully, someone venturing into this haystack is willing to search high and low. I’m one of a kind, not easy to find; but once you do, I’ll stick with you.
“Sewing”, like my Grandma use to do, is what I need to do, now a days for my Grandchildren…, it always made my Grandmother feel good about the things she created for me when I was a little girl— Dolly Parton, says “A coat of many colors my Mama made for me!! ” That song comes to mind and I’m singing over here!!!! There was nothing like a home made altered dress for my daughter Mary when she went to the prom and they always came out as perfect as I could make it! It always stood up to the test that there was not another one like it at the dance, cause usually you could see a few girls who made it to the same store for the same dress- sometimes the same exact color! But not my Mary her dress always fit the bill of a unique in style sexy item… indeed! The Princess at the Ball!! Chloe is my Granddaughter and I already am hemming up her jeans and decorating the most beautiful ballerina outfit for school! “These are the days to put the old fashioned “needle” to work!” Lucky was I to have a Grandmother who took the time to show my never ending curiosity how she made her ” needle” make magic!
The pins and needles begin to press in, and I ponder what they could contain. Poison? or something worse? The odds of it being something better seem pretty minuscule at the moment. All I can do is hope it won’t hurt for long.
There’s a needle in the haystack. How many times do I have to tell you not to do your sewing in the barn. Wasn’t that the one made of silver? You were born with it in your mouth. Like a silver spoon, but with my momma it was all about the sewing, the sewing.
I think finding a good man these days is like pulling a needle from a hay stack, or a piece of chocolate from a box, you just never know what you’re going to get.
This is Fantastic. Thanks.
metal and piercing. it can prod around inside of you, burning like ice. it can be the first thing you ever hurt yourself with, without a thimble, or sitting on a toilet, crying.
in a haystack, it’s sharp and hard to find. so/sew, a needle pulling thread — like in the sound of music. i needle my brother when he can’t take it. now he can take it though and we’re best friends. needle is the name of arya’s sword in a song of ice and fire. needles are shiny and metal except when they are made from bone or wood.
Thorn eyed the boy with a sudden curiosity. “So you’re saying…. that if I were to take this needle,” she twirled the small piece of metal carefully between her fingers. “And introduce it to, oh say your eye, You wouldn’t react at all?” The boy looked at her with a dull expression, as if to answer her correct. Thorn grinned. “Shall we, then?”
Like a needle and thread,
We’re meant to be together.
Like a needle and thread,
We need each other.
Like a needle and thread,
We’re meant to be together.
Like a needle and thread,
Like a needle and thread.
pulling thread, a note to follow so, tea a drink with jam and bread that will bring us bac to do oh ho oh. finding one in a haystack is supposedly very difficult…my guess is, its more dense…it falls to the bottom if you shake out the hay…im not saying it will be quick, but it isnt so hard. sew the heart back together.
comprei uma agulha, espetei num pulha que tentava roubar uma senhora adulta
paguei a multa des estacionamento, a culpa nao e minha lamento
prometo ser um melhor exemplo
In my eyes. They are piercing everything in sight. They are sewing up my soul with a thick woven thread which is stronger than spider web. Needle pressing its point home anyway it can and leaving puncture marks on my eyelids as it pierces.
press to skin, break through and pen into me
endless colours like a fierce rainbow outpouring from my heart
less to be said than shown, less to be shown than felt
in the end, you are lost in the haystack
in the end, you are never alone
Voorzichtig stak ze de naald door de dunnen stof, keek hoe het zilveren kopje er doorheen kwam. Ze trok het ding er helemaal doorheen, zag hoe het garen strak getrokken werd. Tevreden bekeek Kira het eindresultaat. Het voodoopoppetje was het evenbeeld van hem.
With all of this hay around me, I’d say I’m safely hidden. Cuddling in the warm, yellow grains, I don’t mind that it’s a little dark. Will they find me? Maybe. Hopefully, someone venturing into this haystack is willing to search high and low. I’m one of a kind, not easy to find; but once you do, I’ll stick with you.
“Sewing”, like my Grandma use to do, is what I need to do, now a days for my Grandchildren…, it always made my Grandmother feel good about the things she created for me when I was a little girl— Dolly Parton, says “A coat of many colors my Mama made for me!! ” That song comes to mind and I’m singing over here!!!! There was nothing like a home made altered dress for my daughter Mary when she went to the prom and they always came out as perfect as I could make it! It always stood up to the test that there was not another one like it at the dance, cause usually you could see a few girls who made it to the same store for the same dress- sometimes the same exact color! But not my Mary her dress always fit the bill of a unique in style sexy item… indeed! The Princess at the Ball!! Chloe is my Granddaughter and I already am hemming up her jeans and decorating the most beautiful ballerina outfit for school! “These are the days to put the old fashioned “needle” to work!” Lucky was I to have a Grandmother who took the time to show my never ending curiosity how she made her ” needle” make magic!
The pins and needles begin to press in, and I ponder what they could contain. Poison? or something worse? The odds of it being something better seem pretty minuscule at the moment. All I can do is hope it won’t hurt for long.
There’s a needle in the haystack. How many times do I have to tell you not to do your sewing in the barn. Wasn’t that the one made of silver? You were born with it in your mouth. Like a silver spoon, but with my momma it was all about the sewing, the sewing.
I think finding a good man these days is like pulling a needle from a hay stack, or a piece of chocolate from a box, you just never know what you’re going to get.