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Thursday, December 18, 2014






To Winter by William Blake

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.

He hears me not, but o’er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain’d, sheathed
In ribbed steel; I dare not lift mine eyes;
For he hath rear’d his scepter o’er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o’er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs, the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal’st
With storms, till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driven yelling to his caves beneath Mount Hecla.



Monday, December 15, 2014

Friday, November 28, 2014

Holiday Sale:

Black Friday weekend is here! It's the official beginning of the Holiday shopping season. I will be having a 30% off sale in my shop, Denise Dion Designs, all weekend long. You can skip the crowded stores and choose some wonderful holiday jewelry gifts from the comfort of your home. Use code 'Holiday30' to receive 30% off your complete order at checkout.This coupon code will be valid from Friday, November 28 through Tuesday, December 2. Click here to be taken to my shop on Etsy: Denise Dion Designs.


Thursday, November 27, 2014


Monday, November 17, 2014

In the Studio:

Wow! This looks so simple I think even I can do it. Just in time for Christmas.

Friday, November 14, 2014

In a Word:


Bird by Pablo Neruda

It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.

When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Friday, November 7, 2014

In a Word:




Among the rocks by Robert Browning

Oh, good gigantic smile o’ the brown old earth,
This autumn morning! How he sets his bones
To bask i’ the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet
For the ripple to run over in its mirth;
Listening the while, where on the heap of stones
The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet.

That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true;
Such is life’s trial, as old earth smiles and knows.
If you loved only what were worth your love,
Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you:
Make the low nature better by your throes!
Give earth yourself, go up for gain above!