| Autumn Art of Charles Wysocki |
| I've been a fan of Mr. Wysocki's for a very long time. When the Autumn winds bring a chill, an hour pouring over books of Charles Wysocki's art never fails to warm my heart. All of the images and most of the folksy maxims and poems on this page are from the book, "An American Celebration: The Art of Charles Wysocki." Enjoy. Nancy |
| The sharp wind wails and blows its whistle, Piercing the meadow and cutting the thistle; Stabbing, jabbing, pounding the doors, Rattling the hinges then over the moors; Wild and invisible it darts and whips, Kissing the land with cold, cold lips; Hear now the cry of the forest trees, As the wind moans a promise to cover and freeze. |
| Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need, a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends worth the name, a cat, a dog and a pipe or two, enough to wear and enough to drink...for thirst is a dangerous thing. |
| Mr. Blackbird is back in town and wearing his singing crown. He warbles so mellow, a hello...his voice a resonant bellow Like a deep and mellow cello, my guest, this autumn, this fellow. |
| The partridge wiggles, jiggles and fluffs and, also, huddles, cuddles and stuffs; For to nest himself on the heart is a graceful and a delicate art. |
| A frozen New England day, The barren maples slowly sway And sweep the cold sky gray; As the tired fields of brown do hum With a moaning winter dread, And in a chorus tell the farmer Of the long, cold days ahead. |
| Under the bridge and over the hill, through the woods and past the mill, Zing by the glen with no dilly dally, across the field and down to the valley, The happy breadman visits them all, no place too far and no one too small, Bread in the city and bread in the dell, a wonderful treat wherever you dwell. |
| My cabin in the Ozarks has a fireplace deep and wide, stew cooking on the hearth and my old dog by my side, I can see a big wild turkey in the white oak on the hill, where the frosty ridge is sparkling in the moonlight cold and still. -- Mary Elizabeth Mahnkey |
| "I've been a hard worker all of my life, but most all my work has been the kind that perishes with the usin'. That's the discouragin' thing about a woman's work. When I'm dead and gone there ain't anybody goin' to think o' the floors I've swept, the dishes I've scrubbed or the old clothes I've patched, but when one of my grandchildren or great-grandchildren sees one o these quilts, they'll think about Aunt Jane and, wherever I am then, I'll know I ain't fogotten." --From Aunt Jane of Kentucky by Eliza Calvert Hall |
| Dear kinsfolk, who've left to me these quilts you made in bygone springs, Would that I had your fortitude...your joy in lovely, simple things. -- Effie Smith Ely |
| Music: Soft Sounds |
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