Poetry here contributed by visitors to the site and various Bead Fairies.

This interactive poem/song lyric was begun by Ann McGrath and is sung to the tune: These are a few of my favorite things.

Swarovski crystals and cup-tipped bead tweezers,
Sterling head pins and designs that are pleasers,
Craft shows that profit and white silk bead strings,
These are a few of my favorite things. (Ann McGrath)

When the string breaks, when the knot slips, when the glue won't hold.
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel...so...old. (A. OakGrove)

Beads, Bead Everywhere!
Copyright Marianne Vaughn 1996

I look to the heavens for inspiration
And behold a sea of blue seed beads
Breaking around the golden Sun Bead!

I look to the ocean to calm my nerves
And behold a reflected sky of blue's and green's
Interrupted by the fishy charms!

I look in the mirror for meditation
And alas, here too are crystals
In the eyes of a charm, glinting back at me

Beads
Copyright 1985 by Pamela Pillsbury-Coca

Beads are miraculous. Simply divine!
They mellow with age...like women and wine.
You can wear them, compare them, and simply declare them to be admonishously yours.
You can glue them, and sew them, string them, and hang them -- anyway you can make them secure.
You can trade them, wrap them, physically trap them, snap them up quickly at sales.
They make wonderful gifts for the folks on your lists; whether bought or creatively yours.
It is best not to lose them, crush or abuse them, for beads have a soul and a heart.
And, as all beaders know, wherever they go themselves and their beads seldom part.

One Bead Fairy's vision of Bead Fairy Land
by Arena

An enchanted Bead Fairy forest with sterling silver sword ferns
Carved jade mushrooms inhabited by inlaid butterflies.
The trees send magical self-weaving seeds all over the world.
Beads will take over the net!

Untitled
by Brian Mahoney (ender@ihug.co.nz)

beads of sunlight
hanging on a thin thin thread
a faery's dream
inside her head
drop your beads on sunlight
roll
roll
run with them
catch their fire of spinning colour
blow your faries hither and up
and dance in strings
and strands
my pearl.

from a little fairy, stringing stars together.

Obsession
By Lissa McCollum

Cramped back cracks as I crinkle
into bed. Needle pricked
fingers gather soothing sheets,
and aching neck nestles deep
into 3 AM pillow. Light switch click,
itchy eyes finally close...

...and phantom bugles flash
cobalt behind twilight eyes.
Freshwater pearls shimmer,
swimming through my veins
as Delicas dance my spine.
Cool garnets slide memory
smooth through fingertips
twitching for pointed precision
as the beads stalk me deep
through the night...

A Bead Fell
by Corrine Gurry

A bead fell from her hand
into the dust beneath her feet
and formed an archeologists delight
two thousand years in the future.

She carried water in clay vessels,
made the mud, baked the beads,
pounded the root, brewed the dye,
cooked the beads and strung them.

A bead fell from her hand
into the dust beneath her feet
and slept under many generations,
many villages, many lives.

She worked a field, cooked, cared for her
home, had six babies, three survived.
And she wore beads, her mother's,
her grandmother's and her own.

A bead fell from her hand,
a precious bead to me who has it now,
a treasured touchstone of the ancient past,
a real thing in this time of unreality.

A bead fell from her hand...
and into history.

Corrine Gurry '93

Written after a marvelous talk for the Northwest Bead Society by Peter Francis, Jr. Hope you like it!

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