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Love is…

a – accepting someone how they are and how they are not
b – being present to the other, really present
c – creating space for miracles
d – dancing like no one is watching
e – exactly how it is. This is it, baby!
f – forgiving: over and over and over again
g – gratitude: for every single moment of it
h – holding on to each other in good times and in bad times
i – integrity always!
j – jumping in with both feet
k – kindness, practicing being kind
l – listening, really listening, without an agenda
m – miracles, undeserved – everyday!
n – NOW
o – one hundred / one hundred, no fifty / fifty in this game!
p – possibility, anything is possible, having a truly remarkable relationship.
q – quiet meals together
r – Romance!
s – slow dances with the same person
t – Today. There is no tomorrow.
u – understanding – having a bucket full
v – vulnerability
w – willingness to let go, and to let go of ït”.
x – hugs and kisses and more…xoxoxoxoxo
y – Yes. Saying yes.
z – zzzzzz – letting the other person sleep… …

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile as a distraction.


Button lies heavy.
It’s hard, black surface
Standing still and
Finding small comfort
Among the shiny, wrinkled ribbons
Of deep red.

Button reaches –
Touching the sister ribbon
Of faded yellow-green
Wanting what the ribbons have.

Ribbons so entangled.
Enmeshed in the softness
That cloud-like yarn offers
In gratitude.

They hardly notice
Button’s earnest effort;
Feeling only the weight.
Glass button, a sharp contrast.

Button, oh ill shaped button
Not a square, nor a circle
Who made you?

How is it you have landed here?

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.



The familiar.
What makes for the look sideways,
Over there?
Just to make sure the stuff is in its place.

Is it the dream?
That maybe.
Another look, only one this week.
Might it appear different?

Truly, it was the imagination,
All of those cruel words.
Words, words, and words…
Hurled words, like boulders.

Am I alive
Or merely a shell
The remnant of a person?
Having withstood, facing head-on,
With few words of my own
In combat.

Fail quickly, someone told me,
Too late!

See there, the empty, bent trash can.
Fill and tie a tight, square knot, with lid crammed shut.
The heavy thing carried away, by someone else.
A kind, hardworking soul.
Or, the virtual trash can, that makes a real sound.

Who cares how?
Only in the gratitude
That the space is now cleared.
New meaning allowed for, in this pretend life,
My one chance, I presume.

Limp to the safety.
Of the empty space.

And, rest for a while.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.

Losing myself in my work.

This image is a collage project that I did last Fall.
I’ve never  hurt myself or sewn my hand in all of these years.
But, I have often wondered: “What am I really creating?” –LW