Biography of Patricia Wulf
In some of my free time I really love creative writing and making wonderful poems. I get much of my inspiration from nature and experiences I've had with my family, as I live in the far Northwest. I also love designing and making quilts and sewing clothes for myself and making stuffed animals for my little sister. Someday I really hope to make a book of all my quilts and also of all the poems I will have created. But meanwhile I'll be going to school and will learn to be a pharmacist and, subsequently, a cabinetmaker.
Patricia Wulf Poems
Shakespearian Sonnet Of Music
First there is a faint humming in the air. As, serenely, the notes fly high then low, a “tripelet” here and a half note there, with pleasant ease lyrics begin to flow.
I behold the majestic ruins of a once exalted cathedral where walked noble knights and just kings. The sound of satin shoes and rustling robes and
Autumn: Wind And Leaves
Ceaselessly, the air becomes livelier, sharper. Each little thread of breeze tries to convince the leaves to disband (from the magnificent tree of which they prefer) while others are curling around, tumbling over them like sand.
Fly Me Away
Fly me away, Raven, fly me away To some far-off land where I can stay. Here there once was laughing and gladness.
'My Imaginary Garden' From 4th Or 5th Gr...
The orchids are all resplendant, snapdragons quite daintily so fine; They are planted next to my pendant which beautif'ly reflects the sunshine.
Emily's Looking Glass
As I gaze into a looking glass, I see an alternate reality into which I cannot pass.
To My Cygnet
My angel, my daughter, my cygnet dear, When will you see yourself as God and I do? When will you see what God’s sons think of you? How can you at this dapple-grey down shed tears?
I love a costly, far-out brand. This brand comes straight from La-La Land. It is tuna from the bumblebee queen. This has been the case since I was a tween.
God, I Thank Thee
My Father in Heaven, my belovéd God, I thank thee ever for these blessings that purify my spirit flawed.
On one brumous, ebony night, (though still dusted by stars and graced by the moon) one sees a skilled violinist at first sight: a seal point Birman playing an enigmatic, pensive tune
In the painfullest moments, Time creeps slowly by (she, the cruel trickster, yet of so much value) and in the luckiest moments, she'll very soon fly.
She was one of the great and beautiful who died young, but will be remembered always through many a song. Where once she was lavish and decadent, the British envy of the seven seas,
How hopefully he sets her free, his messenger, what will she see? How faithfully she flies (with glee) in search of the promise, a symbol, a key.
Emily's Looking Glass
As I gaze into a looking glass,
I see an alternate reality
into which I cannot pass.
Upon occasion the images delight,
but also bitterly disappoint;
they may dreamily linger or abscond all sight.
This window of vision