To cruel, hard hands,
The willow will not yield.
To force it is to break it.
It must be lead, gently,
...
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My husbands aunt used to make beautiful baskets, in all shapes and sizes, with cane and willow, they were beautiful. I did some backet weaving at school many years ago, but I still love baskets, they are very alive things. A super poem about them. Love Ernestine XXX
This Man knows what he's talking about, I have one of his 'contented' baskets, and there is soul in this poem Michaeleen.