Saturday, 30 November 2013

Winter's Tale

Written by Roger McGough 
(and celebrated by The Guild of Master Bearcrafters)

THE TIME I LIKE BEST
The time I like best
is 6 a.m
and the snow is six inches deep

Which I'm yet to discover
'cos I'm under the cover
and fast, fast asleep.

'Paterson Polar' by Kelly Dean
USA

'Bullfinches' by Irina Kunakh 
RUSSIA

'Kennet' by Anita Timmers-Ekelo
NETHERLANDS

'Holly' by Katherine Hallam
UNITED KINGDOM

'Minkletoes' by Patti Cavenett
AUSTRALIA

'Polar Duo' by Petra Schope
GERMANY

We hope you have enjoyed our members' 'Winter's Tale' presentation and wish you a snug and cosy Winter!

Friday, 15 November 2013

Five Featured Artists

Five more of our fantastically talented featured artists, presented for your enjoyment!

Anastasia by Anna Borisova CZECH REPUBLIC

Carlos by Jenny Johnson UNITED KINGDOM

Pasha and Petrusha by Irina Kunakh RUSSIA

Hope by Melanie Jayne UNITED KINGDOM

Benjamin by Svetlana Chern RUSSIA

The Guild of Master Bearcrafters celebrates inspirational creativity expressed through outstanding craftmanship ... we hope you enjoy sharing these outstanding creations with us!

Friday, 1 November 2013

Ode to Autumn

'Ode To Autumn'


Written by John Keats 1819
Celebrated by The Guild of Master Bearcrafters in 2013

Created by Martha Burch USA
 
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, 
        Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
    Conspiring with him how to load and bless
        With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
    To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
        And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
          To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
        With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
    And still more, later flowers for the bees,
  Until they think warm days will never cease,
          For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

'Leif' by Joanne Noel USA

'Hoggle Boo' by Lainy Musgrove UK 

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
      Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
  Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
      Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
  Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
      Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
          Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
  And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
      Steady thy laden head across a brook;
      Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
          Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

'Harris' by Michelle Lamb USA

'Fall' by Rachel Rolfe UK

  Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
      Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
  While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
      And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
  Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
      Among the river sallows, borne aloft
          Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
  And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
      Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
      The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
          And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

'Fudge' by Pauline Wood UK
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