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Barn Quilt
Several groups around the state of Wisconsin have been involved with barn quilt projects. The quilt blocks are aimed at increasing tourism in rural areas of the state.
This exerpt from the Green County Barn Quilts website:
“Quilts, always a beloved symbol of comfort, family, heritage and community will provide a warm invitation to the rural countryside of Green County. Vibrant quilt patterns will be painted on pre-built 8’x8’ wooden squares. Each quilt will be painted by a team of volunteers and will require a willing barn owner to donate hanging space on their building. Making these quilt squares will allow volunteer groups from churches, schools, 4-H, scouting, HCE, and other community service groups and even families the opportunity to create and paint their own quilt square as a group project. The square that is chosen may represent a family pattern from a beloved quilt or perhaps a new favorite.”
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© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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Here, Where the World is Quiet
© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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Here, where the world is quiet ;
Here, where all trouble seems
Dead winds’ and spent waves’ riot
In doubtful dreams of dreams ;
I watch the green field growing
For reaping folk and sowing,
For harvest-time and mowing,
A sleepy world of streams.
- From “The Garden of Proserpine” by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Hushed October Morning
© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost–
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
- “October” by Robert Frost
Sacred Charm
© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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The dear old farm has a sacred charm
That extends to farthest bound,
Every rock and tree is dear to me,
And hallowed seems the ground.
Its beautiful stream whose waters gleam
As they dance on to the sea,
Sings sweeter song, as it moves along,
Than other waters to me.
No leaves are so green, as those that screen
The revered old farm-house doors,
From the burning sun of torrid June
When his fiercest rays he pours.
Each grove and field doth a mem’ry yield
Of dear childhood’s blissful hours,
And in accents clear, voices I hear
That have now augmented powers.
My father’s care and my mother’s prayer
Are now ended here on earth,
But as time rolls on, since they have gone,
I shall understand their worth.
There’s a sacred charm in the dear old farm,
For loved ones have trod its soil,
And much I now see, appears to me
As fruit of their faithful toil.
- “Old Farm” by Jared Barhite
At Ease Beneath Some Pleasant Weed
© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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THE POETRY of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead 5
In summer luxury,—he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
- “On the Grasshopper and Cricket” by John Keats
Abandoned Barns Defend Abandoned Men
© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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Nature remains faithful by natural light, only.
Immeasurable, invisible in the wind.
Visible when blades and branches bend.
The wind speaks fluent rain.
Despite it the rain falls straight.
And beyond it abandoned barns defend abandoned men.
- Prayer’s End by Brooklyn Copeland
Just One Month Ago
© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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“HANS CHRISTIAN HEG
COLONEL 15TH WIS. VOLS
BORN IN NORWAY
DEC. 21, 1829
FELL AT CHICKAMAUGA
SEPT. 19, 1863″
From Wikipedia:
With the outbreak of the Civil War, Heg was appointed by Wisconsin Governor Alexander Randall as colonel of the 15th Wisconsin Volunteer Regiment. Appealing to all young Norseman he said, “the government of our adopted country is in danger. It is our duty as brave and intelligent citizens to extend our hands in defense of the cause of our Country and of our homes.” The 15th Wisconsin was called the Scandinavian Regiment since its soldiers were almost all immigrants from Norway, with some from Denmark and Sweden. It was the only all Scandinavian regiment in the Union Army. On October 8, 1862, Colonel Heg led his regiment into its first action at the Battle of Perryville. Despite being under fire while being driven back several miles by the enemy, the 15th Wisconsin suffered few casualties and no fatalities. However, one of those hurt was Colonel Heg, who was injured when his horse fell.
Heg commanded the regiment during the Battle of Stones River. In response to his conduct at Stones River, Maj. Gen. William Rosecrans placed Colonel Heg in command of the newly formed 3rd Brigade of the 1st Division, XX Corps, Army of the Cumberland, on May 1, 1863.
On September 19, 1863, Colonel Heg led his brigade at the Battle of Chickamauga, where he was mortally wounded. Brave Col. Heg, commanding a brigade, “was shot through the bowels and died the next day.” Upon hearing of Heg’s death, Rosecrans expressed regret, saying he had intended to promote Heg to brigadier general. As it was, Colonel Heg was the highest-ranked Wisconsin soldier killed in combat during the Civil War.
A Thousand Ways to Turn and Only One Direction to Go
© 2012 Loren Zemlicka
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I was ready for a new experience.
All the old ones had burned out.
They lay in little ashy heaps along the roadside
And blew in drifts across the fairgrounds and fields.
From a distance some appeared to be smoldering
But when I approached with my hat in my hands
They let out small puffs of smoke and expired.
Through the windows of houses I saw lives lit up
With the otherworldly glow of TV
And these were smoking a little bit too.
I flew to Rome. I flew to Greece.
I sat on a rock in the shade of the Acropolis
And conjured dusky columns in the clouds.
I watched waves lap the crumbling coast.
I heard wind strip the woods.
I saw the last living snow leopard
Pacing in the dirt. Experience taught me
That nothing worth doing is worth doing
For the sake of experience alone.
I bit into an apple that tasted sweetly of time.
The sun came out. It was the old sun
With only a few billion years left to shine.
- Suzanne Buffman, “The New Experience”
