The Story of my Blog Title

Quilt of Dragonflies- My blog is named that for a reason.I am lucky enough to own a genuine Quilt of Dragonflies, which I am sure brings me good dreams when I sleep beneath it. It was given to me by a friend of my mother's, who handmade the entire thing. Color meets pattern in this fantastic piece of artwork which sits on my bed. Brilliant shades of purple, blue, and green intersperse with tie dye dragonflies. I will not hesitate to call it my inspiration.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Getting Up

The getting up and
Dragging yourself out of the
Bed. You don't want to.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Five Sentence Fiction: Clandestine

She knew she deserved better than these clandestine meetings. With every step towards their meeting place, she knew she should turn away, run away and never look back. Why did he feel the need to keep them a secret when what they had was so special? She loved him, but she was determined to end it if it would always be a secret. Ducking under the branches of their tree, she had her mind made up.

Write on Wednesdays: The Nature of Place

The Prompt:
Think about a place in nature that feels special to you. Perhaps it is somewhere you visited as a child. Or maybe you share a special outdoor space with your own children. This place, this space will be your prompt for this week's writing exercise. Write about a particular natural geography, a natural place or space close to your heart. Tell us about the weather, the landform , the creatures who live there, what the place means to you and why...

As soon as I saw this prompt, I knew what I would write about. I am writing about Baxter State Park, which is one of the most amazing natural places I have ever been. Every stream and mountain, campsite and pond is beautiful, and I know parts of it like the back of my hand. I know it will always be a part of me. 

Baxter State Park is a magical place. Of that I am absolutely sure. The mountains reach towards the sky, and the deep green woods lie past the slimy grip of humanity and all our problems. Moose stand deep in glittering ponds, drinking, calves romping in the water beside them. Trails are crisp and beautiful, well taken care of by people who actually care.

 Then, there is Mt. Katahdin, the mother of all mountains. Not the tallest or most difficult to scale, but there is something about Mt. Katahdin which makes climbers respect and feel in awe of the rolling foothills and rocky turrets. Mt. Katahdin is tangible, alive, and you can feel its pull from miles away. To climb this mountain is to find a part of yourself that you never knew you were missing. It is to eat a peanut butter sandwich on the top, shrouded in clouds and feeling on top of the world. It is to feel your blisters throb and to know you are still miles away from a camp fire. It is to picnic on giant rocks that you know are just sleeping trolls, to walk along a trail of tiny trees, and to finally burst above tree line and see the mountain spreading out around you. It is emerald moss and icy streams, marshmallows and campfires, outhouses and trails around ponds filled with grasses that sing in the wind. 

Camping in Baxter State Park is leaving the world for a weekend, and wishing you never had to go back. Camping without a care, because even if you sweat and do not shower, you know that no one else will either. Camping is dipping your toes in the mountain stream until they turn pink or blue. Or, for the brave ones, dunking in a small hole only several degrees above freezing, and laughing for doing it. Camping in Baxter is finding the ones you love and spending time with them in the most beautiful place on earth. 

Baxter is for laughing, for loving and climbing and sweating. It is for eating, for drinking, for singing and hiking and summiting. Most of all, it is for everyone. It is for me. 

Sick Day

The couch is my kingdom
Littered with blankets, tissues
Books. I read a fairy tale
And sleep. The golden light sprinkled from the windows
Flutters down upon me
Eyelids close, and bars
Of silence float around me
The books spins tales
Of midsummer, fairies
Sprites. They mingle with my sleep
Words and pictures
Sunlight from the window
Dreams and reality
Scattered with the glasses of water
Mugs of tea
Is that a magical light
A dream
Waking eyes stare unblinking
At the ceiling, out the window
Sleeping hidden from the room
Huddled in blankets with pillows
"I have had a most rare vision.
I have had a dream—past the wit of man to say what dream it was."

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Walking in the Woods

A walk in the woods
Makes me feel like a Brontë
Heathcliff, anyone?

Smile: OSI

First off, I am so, so sorry for missing yesterday. I thought I had posted in the morning, but looking back I realized I hadn't. Anyway, I will make up for it and post two today. First, I am posting a poem inspired by a prompt at One Single Impression (found here). I was advised to find this blog, and they post words to inspire poems. I am very excited to try it out for myself. Here I go again, adding another thing to this blog. I think I am addicted to linkys.

This prompt was "Smile"


She stares unabashed
Long eyelashes silky and hiding
Bright eyes of passion
He lounges on his chair
Pencil tip tapping the side of his mouth
His hair curls at the tip
Of his neck, hers is long
A curtain between them
Modesty between feather brown locks
Suddenly, she is caught
As a deer in the headlights
His eyes lock
With her widened ones
The pencil drops to the table
She flicks her hair over her face
Desperate to hide the pink
Blossom of a blush
His mouth slowly turns up at the corners
He raises a hand gracefully
Waves the tips of fingers at her
Smiles and
Melts her heart
She smiles back.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Write on Wednesdays: Agent Chin-Wag

The Write on Wednesday Spark: Agent Chin- Wag
Pay attention to the conversations around you: at the dinner table, in the supermarket, while DVD Returning, wherever. You are looking for one line, one tiny sentence of dialogue. You may find your words lurking in a D&M or perhaps you will choose a phrase from everyday chatter. Write down your line. Use it to inspire your Write on Wednesday post. Keep your post on the short side: up to 500 words OR a 5 minute stream of consciousness exercise. Link your finished piece to the list and begin popping by the other links. Oh and enjoy.

I had a bit of trouble with this week's prompt. I just couldn't seem to make it click. Here is what I came up with...

"...and I just replied to her email in all capitols!!"

"What, do you mean like I LOVE YOU IN ALL CAPITALS!?"
"Well, yes, but at least now he knows how I feel."
"I think that is taking it far beyond what you feel. I really hope you know what you are getting into with this one. Who writes 'I love you' in all caps anyway?"
"Umm, me?"

The conversation continued, chatter buzzing in their ears. The two friends laughed in all the right moments, dapped their eyes in mock despair, and picked apart their love lives like an ice cream sundae with chunks of fudge hidden under the whipped cream.

"And I said, you know who I am talking about!"

"No way, did you really? And I thought I was bad."

"Eew, did you really expect him to be so awful? Do you do this to yourself on purpose?"

"Did I tell you the story of my uncle William and the flying turkey adventure at Thanksgiving?"

Little did they know that one day, their tales would be replaced by silence. One day, they would not know how to react, how to sit and talk about things so trivial and happy. One day, things would change, and there was not stopping that. Until then, let us leave them drinking iced coffee and laughing so hard that their stomachs hurt. They deserve it.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012


Tired Tired Tired
Oh, what I wouldn't give for
The world to stop
Just a few days with no spinning
The earth comes to a complete stop
People exhale

Tuesday, January 24, 2012


A day of warmth brings
Sunshine and a pair of shorts
Running in the woods

Monday, January 23, 2012

Historical Society

Books that smell of age
Creaking wooden floors respond
To my every step

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Brunch at Our House

The griddle heats and batter is thrown together
Onto the steaming surface, pancakes are born
Waffles sizzle and come out
Edges perfectly crisp, with squares for syrup
In place
Company comes, talking and laughing
Stomping cold feet on the mat outside
Shoes and coats come off
Into the home, and orange juice
For everyone
More laughter, talking
And the dog is happy
Where there is food
The piano is dusted
Keys are played again
And today music fills the house
They are not serious
Yet Fiddler on the Roof never sounded
So good
Bananagrams in the living room
The food is still hot
Words are made
And guesses are wrong
People depart
Thank you's and coats back on
Hugs goodbye and promises
Of course we will
Do this again.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Bad Moods Bring

Bad moods bring grunts
In conversations and frowns
Quick answers if
Any at all
Bad moods bring fights and
Which lead to regrets, more anger
And a headache

Friday, January 20, 2012

Snow Dreams

Fresh snow brings dreams and visions to our eyes
We long for things we don't in clear blue skies

Thursday, January 19, 2012


a thousand voices raised in song
knight in armor, sword is strong
glitter raining from the sky
make a quilt of dragonfly
magic-it is in the air
maidens weeping in despair
a golden horn of truth and wealth
interlopers cloaked in stealth
wherefore art thou, my handsome man?
come and catch me if you can
raise the plank and we'll set sail
into the sunset's hazy veil
never to return again
to hide inside a magic glen

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Annabelle and Danny Wise

Now gather round and let me tell
The tale of Danny Wise:
And how his sweet wife Annabelle
Did suck out both his eyes.
And if I tell the story true
And if I tell it clear
There’s not a mortal one of you
Won’t shriek in mortal fear.
It was a day of mourning
When Old Danny was found dead
He didn’t take the warning
When Annabelle grabbed his head
Poor Danny did not stand a chance
Compared to Annabelle
It only took one sultry glance
He was under a spell
And now we mourn an awesome guy
Who had his eyes sucked out
We can only sit and wonder why
Annabelle did act out

Five Sentence Fiction: Jubilant

This week's Five Sentence Fiction is Pick Your Own, so I chose the world Jubilant.


How does one describe a feeling like being lifted up into the air, resplendent with golden wings and crisp bells tolling over the moors? Do you feel as swift as the ocean of a thought, running hither and thither and drifting lazily from simile to simile? Or is it a simpler feeling, like dipping your finger into a dish of ice cream and bringing it slowly to your mouth, premature smile floating on your lips? When you hear it, is it poetry, is it the stomping of hoofs and the rushes of animal breath, or the sound a single blade of grass can make when it bends in the wind? Is it the joys and sorrows of the world, or just you with your notebook, playing with your imagination?

Write on Wednesday: The Storm

This week Write on Wednesday came back from winter break, and I am very excited to ease the writing muscles back into work. The prompt for this week was the things that trees tell us, though I admit that in my free writing I strayed a little from the prompt. It is a little longer than usual, but I found that after starting, I couldn't stop! I guess I had really missed writing. Great to read everyone else's, and I am so happy we are all back!


This was the storm that would never end. Night after night the wind screamed through the cracks in the door, wailed down the chimney and screeched under the floorboards. Mama and Papa smiled with tired smiles, reassured us that it would end, it would end soon, but it never did. We grew hungrier and hungrier, until one day Papa put on every stitch of clothing we owned and climbed out the door into the roaring tempest. I knew he would never return.

I remember wondering why the earth was so heart wrenchingly angry at us, so depressed and irate. Waves beat at the beach, and with every punch of surf the distance between our tiny house and the monstrous ocean grew smaller. The salt made our skin red and flaky, and our faces grew puffy and sore. We were never warm, as the wood for the stove had run out quite a long time ago. After a while, we just slept as much as we could, huddled together, attempting to ignore the roaring and slip into the dreamy world of slumber, where there was sunshine and Papa was still with us. When Mama began to hack and wheeze, I knew we could not last much longer. 

Like Papa, I muscled the door open in the middle of the night and slipped out, knowing that the only chance at survival was to leave and find help. But who could be alive in a storm such as this? I ran in a daze through wind and rain, buffeted like a toy in the hands of my sister. 

The cold was the worst part. I could not feel my hands, and my eyes were all but frozen shut with a cake of salt around the edges. They burned, and my exposed fingers were numb and raw. I admitted to myself that I had failed. I had failed my family, myself, and I was going to die out here alone. 

It was the overturned tree that saved me. I bumped into it, literally hitting my red nose against the trunk. The maelstrom around me had strengthened as I walked, staggered down the beach, searching for something or someone to save me. The bark, though it should have been dead long ago, was warm to the touch, and emanated a heat unlike any I had felt before. As I slipped under the branches at the base of the trunk, I could feel the life of the tree pouring into me. The wind howled with vengeance, the waves beat against the beach with new vigor, but my savior had come. 

Tuesday, January 17, 2012


We raise our voices together
Together we laugh at our mistakes
Discords and flats, sharps
When we are strong, we smile and sing louder
When we struggle we grin
Push on
We crack jokes, listen to recordings
Sing with accompaniment
And all alone
Warmups and cool downs
The life of chorus

Monday, January 16, 2012


The laughs they seem so happy
So innocent and free
My mouth is wide
Feel good inside
The merry gaiety
For when my soul is laughing
My night is very fun
To live my life
No tears or strife
Rejoice in moon and sun

Shakespeare Quote

"Every subject's duty is the king's, but every subjects soul is his own."
-Henry V

Martin Luther King Jr. Day

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day to everyone! I hope you took some time to think about Dr. King and everything he did to make this country who we are today. He was a good man, and today is the day to spare him a moment in your thoughts, and to remember why America is such a wonderful county. Remember that some of this credit goes to him, and think of Martin Luther King today as you celebrate a day off or simply know that it is a holiday.


Sunday, January 15, 2012

Much Ado About Nothing

Today I watched the movie version of Much Ado About Nothing. It was wonderful, and I want to share one of my favorite quotes...

"I love nothing in the world so much as you. Is not that strange?"

Chap Stick

An Ode to Chapstick

My lips they burn
At twist and turn
With every word I say
Form ridges deep
With every peep
How can it go away?

I wish to sing
Without a sting
But cannot find a way
Then chap stick's here
Bringing me cheer
All throughout the day

That waxy gleam
Which comes from cream
Is that a strawberry scent?
A tube of the stuff
Is never enough
Because it came and went

I love you chap-stick, forevermore
You sooth my lips right to the core
And when my lips are feeling hot
I slather you right on the spot

Saturday, January 14, 2012

The Weather

the wind howls
a hungry animal, eager to catch my ears-hold them fast

and the weather is against me
my mind is a blank as rain pelts at me
threatening to soak my pants, my mood-me
thunder quick and jealous in the sky
the lightning gets all the attention
and the weather frightens me
fog from some world
other than mine floats across the fields
sprinkling dew drops like diamonds 
across the grass
trees sketched in charcoal
quick strokes strong against the mist

and the weather mystifies me

Friday, January 13, 2012


There's an unknown feeling
Creeping across the back of my neck
Blowing stray hairs and prickling
It takes a moment
Then, I know what it is
Sunshine, warmth

Thursday, January 12, 2012


It started out snow
Fluffy and white with some wind
Now it is all rain

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Orange You Glad

Orange you glad
I had the audacity to post an orange joke?

Orange you glad it wasn't a banana
Or something more colorful?

Orange you glad that you live in sunshine
Dance in the rain?

Orange you glad that when life slaps you hard in the face
You have words to turn to, sentences to hide in?

Orange you glad that oranges exist
Like you and I, mere playthings?

Orange you glad
That we revolve around the sun?
That children play and people fall in love?
That happy days are on their way?
That grass is green and oranges

Are orange?

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Run Away

And sit for long and
Stare outside
Willing the world to
Run away
And take me with it
Far, far gone
Into the sunset
Goodbye for
Now and see you soon
In the sky
Dancing with the stars

Monday, January 9, 2012

Five Sentence Fiction: Hunger

I know I have been gone for several weeks, but for some reason I couldn't get the linky to work on my computer. I am back, and am looking forward to more writing in the new year!


It pained her, having to see them like this. There were always smiles and waves, eager hands and bright eyes, but as surely as the Elephant is wrinkled, Jane could see their tight bellies and wide eyed stares. Here in Africa, this was common, the people knew that if the Giraffe could eat the high leaves, they could adapt as well to life in the dust filled bowl of a continent. The children were the worst, because through all the suffering, they laughed and played. Jane knew they deserved better, and the bitter taste of hunger lingered in her stomach too; the hunger for justice.

Guinea Pig

Snuffles and squeaking
How cute he is in my room
Very smelly too.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Let's Be Swedes

The Swedes are happy people
We sing and dance
Clicking heels and spinning with wide smiles
Laughing and joking as friends
For the night
Listening to a story, we are children
Buffet, we eat like adults
We bring risgrynsgröt
Rice pudding
Sing about maidens and frogs
Fiddlers and children
We lose the raffle again
(We do every year)
(Who wins these anyway?)

Being Swedish for a night
Pretending there is snow outside and
The trees are firs
Undisturbed by cars or people
Pretending we know the language
We are those few tonight
Eating and singing
Being happy
Being Swedes

Saturday, January 7, 2012


Racket to wall with
A crash the ball flies out and
Away to the floor

Friday, January 6, 2012

Bath for the Guinea Pigs

He shivers, squeaks, and makes a fuss
Sudsy water slushes and he glares at me.
Poor thing, but it is necessary
Those squeaks are very pitiful
I love you, but you will smell good
Like strawberries
Into a fresh towel, scrubbed down and dry
More squeaks, but this time happy
A cuddle makes him better
His eyes shine, happy and
He is warm again.

Thursday, January 5, 2012


Creating subtle harmony
Huffing after a piercing note
O is our mouths, open in song
Rejoice in voices lifted high
Under chairs and out of windows
Songs are sung and joy is here

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

New Year's Eve

Mist of fairies passes
Through the air, fireworks
Explode on the roadside
Balloons are dropped
The eerie stillness of the highway
Steals into the car
We are left in silence
To ponder the last night of the year
As headlights and blood red taillights
Flash silently past

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

A New Year

Fireworks, champagne
Resolutions strong as steel
Broken in a month

White Mountains

Eating at the diner in town...

The best sledding hill in the entire world. No competition. 

The longest candy counter in the world. 
Over break, my brothers, my dad, and I went to the White Mountains to catch some snow. We had some fantastic sledding, ice skating, and a trip to the world's longest candy counter. These are a couple pictures from the trip.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Thoughts on the Car Trip Home

The toll worker smiles
Wanly and wrinkles appear
Crags across his aging cheeks
Lights flash past, some distant and others near
Marks of civilization. Fireworks shoot off in glory
The cars turn and watch as golden sparks erupt
At dinner my head pounds
Kids run through the aisles of booths
Laughing and popping balloons
Each pop resounds, a fatal blow
My headache worsens
A family walks by
Mother holding the baby
Father standing proud, robin's egg blue bag
Of diapers by his side
How manly.
Back in the card, I rest my aching temples on the cold glass
Breathing moisture clouds onto the window and slowing rubbing them out
A message to the other cars
Flashing past
Darkness falls
Fog as thick as well, pea soup
Lighting up a lake as we drive past
The ghosts of cars past
In the mirrors
The lake a portal to an eerie world
My feet fall asleep, and I begin to drift
The yellow lines smile up at me
The dozing passenger

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Happy New Year

Happy New Year to everyone who reads my blog, and I hope the new year brings you all happiness and peace. I have arrived home from a relaxing vacation up north, and I had a much needed break from everything for a couple days of fun and snow. When I have more time, possibly tomorrow, I will be able to collect my thoughts on the trip, write some poems, and find some good pictures to include, but for now I will just wish you well in the year ahead, and hope that all your wishes and resolutions come true. Here are my blog resolutions for this year:

Write Often When I Can
I realize that this year could be very busy, and I am resolved to continue to write as much as possible when I have the time. I would like to try and include more poems on days where I do not have as much going on, like the weekends. This will make up for poems that were written in hast on days where I have a lot on my plate.

Poem of the Week
One of the most inconsistent things about the Quilt is the poem of the week. I have not been changing it every week, but I do feel that is important. I think Sunday is a good day for me, so every Sunday I am resolved to change the poem of the week.

Poem Revolution
I am steadily learning new things about poetry, and my goal is to fit all my learning into the things that I write. I am keen to write better poetry, and I know that the only way to get better is to practice.

Well, those are a couple things I would like to do better in the New Year. What kinds of things would you like to accomplish in the next twelve months? Quilt of Dragonflies thanks you for everything you have done, and for everything I am sure you will continue to do. With 732 posts, 6039 views, and 273 comments, my blog has thrived since its start last December, and I am happy.

Happy New Year!