baskets that sit on the table with fruit or hot bread. Lawn furniture on the porch in the summer, leavin the weave pattern of the back of legs uncovered in shorts
Makes me think of baskets. Like cookery baskets. I had one in school but it was pointless cos I hated cookery and it was too awkward to fit anything in anyway. It was just another attempt by my school to try to be posh.
there was nothing she wanted more than understanding. she wanted to know why they did what they did. she held the long piece of string and trembled. it wasn’t over.
He had never liked wicker furniture. It was too scratchy to sit on wearing just his underwear. Also, how does one clean it? He was once offered a paper plate of food at a cookout that was supported by a wicker plate caked with dried on ketchup. Nasty.
I used to have a whole set of white wicker furniture when I was young. The desk chair was so uncomfortable and the wicker would dig into your back. I hated that furniture, but had it until I was in high school.
I moved into an older lady’s apartment, and all the furniture is wicker. It makes a man wonder how in the hell this stuff ever caught on once it outlived the phase of “best technology available”. It kinda smells of varnish, it’s noisy, ugly, and just screams, “old person that thinks kids’ hair is too long”. I can’t wait to get rid of it.
The chair is different that you think it is; instead of just being wood and the remnants of what would have been twine in a previous life it is instead the tangle of thoughts and moments, of kids climbing over its arms pretending to be monkeys in some distant jungle. It contains everything we want our memories to contain.
Wicker cabinets and baskets remind me of the wicker rugs made at the southern tip of India. Floor furnishings are a fancier name for rugs or carpets. You wouldn’t think that wicker floor furnishings would be comfortable, but apparently they’re very popular. Also, extremely heavy to transport: a great product for high shipping fees.
The wicker baskets on the porch were frayed. Nobody used them since mom died, because nobody did the laundry in the yard anymore. Tom says that going to the laundromat is better, but somehow, even when you take the clothes out of the washer there they still feel dirty. Mom used to wash with soap that her mother taught her how to make, and she used to dry things in the sun. Things smelled like wind and grass clippings when you took them off the line, and they felt clean.
I had a wicker chair once. It was one of those rattan chairs that you meditate in, but my mom’s springer spaniel tore it up. Or at least it looked beat up. So, now I don’t really meditate. Its kind of sad, really. I mean, I take yoga but I don’t meditate at home anymore. I even used to read in that chair. And I really need to meditate because I’m a social worker.
wicker is actually pretty annoying. really. even the fake plastic stuff. it breaks everywhere like the artificial christmas tree my family has that still sheds little plastic needles. so no, I do not think I will be furnishing my home with wicker, unless it redeems itself to me.
the chair sat wobbly and dilapidated in the corner. white paint threatening to dissapear completely in a few more years. to sit down would hazard ones fate.
IT’s almost like a muskoka chair, only wicker, it sits out on the dock all year round, taking all that mother nature can throw at it. harsh winds, torrential rain, freezing cold, there it sits, the wicker chair, and i sit in it.
i love the wicker chair i can swink on and read books and sit by the fireplace, it’s warm and cosy. dreams come true while sitting on it. it makes me feel loved.
wicker is a wonderful material that is used mostly for furntiture. a sort of woody material that is found in the jungle and rain forests in countries near the equator. it’s fairly sturdy and resistant but could be s
Wicker what does that even mean? Wicker chair, wicker basket the endless possiblities with the word wicker. Oh it rolls of the tounge as you say it. Slowly and it kind of tickles. Wick—-errrrr
i sit in the wicker rocker. the creak of the plants move back and forth as i move my center of balance. the wicker rocker is painted in a dusky gray, changing color in the light. purple at times, light blue at other times. i pray for the sense of solitude, of serenity, to continue.
Wicker is a dumb word for a Friday. Friday words are supposed to be exciting and this one is not. Oh well though. Wicker chairs are pretty comfortable. They always have them sitting outside of the stores in the summertime. I think wicker furniture on decks always makes them have an inviting feel.
Wicker. White wicker. Lounging, summer time. Pool Side, cool breeze. Ice cold lemonade. Laughing, shouting, playing. All taken in from my wicker chair.
I remember wicker chairs from my childhood. These wicker chairs were brown, white, and other colors too. They aren’t very comfortable without padding but they are still nice.
The wicker basket was overflowing. Grandmother had everything she loved wickerized, as such, her favourite chair was a red wicker rocking contraption that squeaked everytime she rocked on it. She weaved the basket we took on picnic that day. Whenever I see wicker I think of her.
The wicker man flared to life. Their lives flashed in a collective consciousness effect in front of everyone’s eyes. His life began, so theirs must all end. The gods, the Otherworld, the spirits, need their lives to end if the crops will grow, if the people who brought the Man to life are to thrive as well, these few, these imprisoned few must not continue.
She always sat in that chair
It was wicker and creaked when she moved
Poking the children with her knobbly cane.
She faced the door
closing her eyes
and breathed in the aroma of life
before she left us
with her chair and her cane.
The wicker creaked as he sat down. The air was thick and heavy with moisture, and it made the wicker expand, swelling up and groaning every time he moved. Mosquitoes flew around his head, buzzing like a dentist’s drill, and white moths fluttered against the glass casing of the porch light.
I have a wicker patio set that needs new cushions. I have a new wicker hamper that Pixie-cat thinks is her throne. But she’s so fat that I’m afraid she’s going to break the top. Silly cat.
i could fill a wicker basket full of the things that i feel right now. stress would be the heaviest item in that basket this week has included class every day work from 5-12 every night a test and a paper this week destroyed me and the other heavy item is exhaustion
The wicker basket sits on a stool not to far from me. It’s filled with an assortment of wool that I’m using to make my niece a little scarf. She’s a new born and precious. I love her so.
the basket was filled to the brim with old food containers, rancid and sweet, old sauces dripping through the cracks. the carpet was stained a crusty brown, littered with sesame seeds and chocolate crumbs.
Wicker is the most uncomfortable chair ever. Its like sitting on a bunch of sticks tied together. Who thought this was a good idea? You need to put a cushion on it. Why not but a wooden chair then, for half the price? I hate wicker furniture.
The wicker witch sat by her fire, she burned her sage and hummed her toon “I am a wicker witch” she sang “strong and true. I am a wicker witch what are you?”
I think of lazy, wrap-around porches on big Victorian houses in the summer. Sitting with friends & family in weather-worn wicker chairs with overstuffed cushions in floral prints. Sipping iced tea from plastic tumblers. Ah, perfect : )
i remember my wicker rocking chair
it used to poke me but i loved it nonetheless
now my grandpa sits in that chair
he has so much trouble getting out of it
how strange, that the chair means such different things to the young and the old
my grandma sitting in that chair reading
my grandpa sitting, nodding off
me sitting there, playing with teddy, content as could be.
baskets that sit on the table with fruit or hot bread. Lawn furniture on the porch in the summer, leavin the weave pattern of the back of legs uncovered in shorts
Makes me think of baskets. Like cookery baskets. I had one in school but it was pointless cos I hated cookery and it was too awkward to fit anything in anyway. It was just another attempt by my school to try to be posh.
there was nothing she wanted more than understanding. she wanted to know why they did what they did. she held the long piece of string and trembled. it wasn’t over.
she would find the wicker basket.
He had never liked wicker furniture. It was too scratchy to sit on wearing just his underwear. Also, how does one clean it? He was once offered a paper plate of food at a cookout that was supported by a wicker plate caked with dried on ketchup. Nasty.
I used to have a whole set of white wicker furniture when I was young. The desk chair was so uncomfortable and the wicker would dig into your back. I hated that furniture, but had it until I was in high school.
I once had a wicker basket it made me feel like little red riding hood when I carried it. The big bad wolf never got me though – pity that.
Not shure really
what you mean
No basketcase
I believe
Maybe that’s the way
to end this shit
I DON’T KNOW.
I moved into an older lady’s apartment, and all the furniture is wicker. It makes a man wonder how in the hell this stuff ever caught on once it outlived the phase of “best technology available”. It kinda smells of varnish, it’s noisy, ugly, and just screams, “old person that thinks kids’ hair is too long”. I can’t wait to get rid of it.
The chair is different that you think it is; instead of just being wood and the remnants of what would have been twine in a previous life it is instead the tangle of thoughts and moments, of kids climbing over its arms pretending to be monkeys in some distant jungle. It contains everything we want our memories to contain.
Wicker cabinets and baskets remind me of the wicker rugs made at the southern tip of India. Floor furnishings are a fancier name for rugs or carpets. You wouldn’t think that wicker floor furnishings would be comfortable, but apparently they’re very popular. Also, extremely heavy to transport: a great product for high shipping fees.
blah blah blah
The wicker baskets on the porch were frayed. Nobody used them since mom died, because nobody did the laundry in the yard anymore. Tom says that going to the laundromat is better, but somehow, even when you take the clothes out of the washer there they still feel dirty. Mom used to wash with soap that her mother taught her how to make, and she used to dry things in the sun. Things smelled like wind and grass clippings when you took them off the line, and they felt clean.
I had a wicker chair once. It was one of those rattan chairs that you meditate in, but my mom’s springer spaniel tore it up. Or at least it looked beat up. So, now I don’t really meditate. Its kind of sad, really. I mean, I take yoga but I don’t meditate at home anymore. I even used to read in that chair. And I really need to meditate because I’m a social worker.
wicker is actually pretty annoying. really. even the fake plastic stuff. it breaks everywhere like the artificial christmas tree my family has that still sheds little plastic needles. so no, I do not think I will be furnishing my home with wicker, unless it redeems itself to me.
the chair sat wobbly and dilapidated in the corner. white paint threatening to dissapear completely in a few more years. to sit down would hazard ones fate.
IT’s almost like a muskoka chair, only wicker, it sits out on the dock all year round, taking all that mother nature can throw at it. harsh winds, torrential rain, freezing cold, there it sits, the wicker chair, and i sit in it.
i love the wicker chair i can swink on and read books and sit by the fireplace, it’s warm and cosy. dreams come true while sitting on it. it makes me feel loved.
wicker is a wonderful material that is used mostly for furntiture. a sort of woody material that is found in the jungle and rain forests in countries near the equator. it’s fairly sturdy and resistant but could be s
Wicker what does that even mean? Wicker chair, wicker basket the endless possiblities with the word wicker. Oh it rolls of the tounge as you say it. Slowly and it kind of tickles. Wick—-errrrr
i sit in the wicker rocker. the creak of the plants move back and forth as i move my center of balance. the wicker rocker is painted in a dusky gray, changing color in the light. purple at times, light blue at other times. i pray for the sense of solitude, of serenity, to continue.
one word can do wonders. To express our emotions, even one word is enough.
Wicker is a dumb word for a Friday. Friday words are supposed to be exciting and this one is not. Oh well though. Wicker chairs are pretty comfortable. They always have them sitting outside of the stores in the summertime. I think wicker furniture on decks always makes them have an inviting feel.
Wicker. White wicker. Lounging, summer time. Pool Side, cool breeze. Ice cold lemonade. Laughing, shouting, playing. All taken in from my wicker chair.
I remember wicker chairs from my childhood. These wicker chairs were brown, white, and other colors too. They aren’t very comfortable without padding but they are still nice.
The wicker basket was overflowing. Grandmother had everything she loved wickerized, as such, her favourite chair was a red wicker rocking contraption that squeaked everytime she rocked on it. She weaved the basket we took on picnic that day. Whenever I see wicker I think of her.
wicker
The wicker man flared to life. Their lives flashed in a collective consciousness effect in front of everyone’s eyes. His life began, so theirs must all end. The gods, the Otherworld, the spirits, need their lives to end if the crops will grow, if the people who brought the Man to life are to thrive as well, these few, these imprisoned few must not continue.
She always sat in that chair
It was wicker and creaked when she moved
Poking the children with her knobbly cane.
She faced the door
closing her eyes
and breathed in the aroma of life
before she left us
with her chair and her cane.
The wicker creaked as he sat down. The air was thick and heavy with moisture, and it made the wicker expand, swelling up and groaning every time he moved. Mosquitoes flew around his head, buzzing like a dentist’s drill, and white moths fluttered against the glass casing of the porch light.
I have a wicker patio set that needs new cushions. I have a new wicker hamper that Pixie-cat thinks is her throne. But she’s so fat that I’m afraid she’s going to break the top. Silly cat.
i could fill a wicker basket full of the things that i feel right now. stress would be the heaviest item in that basket this week has included class every day work from 5-12 every night a test and a paper this week destroyed me and the other heavy item is exhaustion
The wicker basket sits on a stool not to far from me. It’s filled with an assortment of wool that I’m using to make my niece a little scarf. She’s a new born and precious. I love her so.
the basket was filled to the brim with old food containers, rancid and sweet, old sauces dripping through the cracks. the carpet was stained a crusty brown, littered with sesame seeds and chocolate crumbs.
the wicker basket of life is hanging above your head. At any moment it may break and fall, and you will be engulfed in all the contents there held.
Wicker is the most uncomfortable chair ever. Its like sitting on a bunch of sticks tied together. Who thought this was a good idea? You need to put a cushion on it. Why not but a wooden chair then, for half the price? I hate wicker furniture.
The wicker witch sat by her fire, she burned her sage and hummed her toon “I am a wicker witch” she sang “strong and true. I am a wicker witch what are you?”
Wicker rocking
stoop talking
we were watching
the fellas stroll by
Iced tea
sweet peas
the dogs laying next to me
dreaming we can fly.
wicker rocking.
I think of lazy, wrap-around porches on big Victorian houses in the summer. Sitting with friends & family in weather-worn wicker chairs with overstuffed cushions in floral prints. Sipping iced tea from plastic tumblers. Ah, perfect : )
i remember my wicker rocking chair
it used to poke me but i loved it nonetheless
now my grandpa sits in that chair
he has so much trouble getting out of it
how strange, that the chair means such different things to the young and the old
my grandma sitting in that chair reading
my grandpa sitting, nodding off
me sitting there, playing with teddy, content as could be.
Horse
nice sound
my dad sleeping