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HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Greetings to you all and best wishes for a year that brings you many beautiful things!
My works have been for Christmas in the middle .... will go for next year at this point.
This is the last work completed. A bag for birthday Delfina.

Thanks to Delfina for photos. I dropped my camera.

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I'm jealous of your jealousy
that is reflected in our

nudity nudity in anime
that quiver to be
meat
and leave no regrets on the mirrors


when the darkness covers me your kisses
while the strings jump

slowly one at a time until you discover

bodies yearn
illuminated mirrors just by Caravaggio

flames of candles
And how are our hands
flames dancing tongues of fire on
mysterious recesses of skin
that only the mirror can double.
And jealousy your jealousy
is not that desire is a lack of desire

I have to mark a path as
virgin
with my saliva while you
, bee famished, you
foods impossible
nectar that only the
mirror that acts as a ceiling
returns to the life of our
looks dreamy.
Swimming naked on you
water enveloping
inside you
wave above me
under you
plunged deep
from which I will not emerge even if I remove the
breath. Your
inviting moisture

to tell me every stroke
that jealousy jealousy

is the secret of every supreme contentment. From "Jealousy" poems of Alfred White and Tiziana Aliffi

(The verses are by A. White)

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A small bag with scissors fob and autumn colors.

The scheme is free of Maryse and is embroidered on linen 40 count Permin with flax yarn DMC recommended.

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from JEALOUSY JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

They can caress

hands tend raise

curtains onyx dawns primitive

for you I'll be your shadow

your constant thought

item violin thin filaments apparently

soft touch long walk

steep lips to miss even on a carpet of leaves

assortment of Vestal Your kisses

be your jealousy

every time a stone will plow the depths

and the wind blowing

curious s'incuneerà between roots suspended

I worry sweet

taut between your hands and soft lips

jealousy

hell of this life

sweet friend of this weary night

without you is dark lake

without you is prison ax.

Our lap is covered with tulips

big glasses from a heavy heart

embroidery mouths crave juicy ovaries

and petals are scattered on the body just wake

slowly melt my name

twists hair velvet desert.

Nudes

peering endless skies

ceilings and deep nothing

what appears then disappears

our faces

in the sun this December

grass will be etched Yellow

and jealousy will flow again

weaving flowers and crystal depths

breasts dressed in transparent allusions

bodices stripped of string in string.

I want to run barefoot on your body

kiss in the dark

piece by piece and find your silence

drink the sap from your mouth that takes me away

always find yourself on that wall

glossy fantasy

leaving dream again

what promises paradise

and skin voiceless

calls. (Tiziana Aliffi)

I'm jealous of your jealousy
that is reflected in our

nudity nudity in anime
that quiver to be

meat and let regrets

on mirrors when the darkness covers me
of your kisses
while the strings jump

slowly one at a time until you discover

bodies yearn
illuminated mirrors just by Caravaggio

flames of candles burning
And how are our
hands dancing tongues of fire on
mysterious recesses of skin
that only the mirror can double.
And jealousy your jealousy
is not that desire is a lack of desire

I have to mark a path as
virgin
with my saliva while you
, bee famished, you
foods impossible
nectar that only the
mirror that acts as a ceiling
returns to the life of our
looks dreamy.
Swimming naked on you
water enveloping
inside you
wave above me
under you
plunged deep

from which I will not emerge even if I take your breath away. Your
inviting moisture

to tell me every stroke
that jealousy jealousy

is the secret of every supreme contentment. (Alfred White)

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poems of Alfred White and Tiziana Aliffi

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EXCHANGE FALL SEASON AFTER A FEW ...

I am preparing my work for the exchange of winter and I remember that I have not yet shown what I had prepared for the exchange summer and autumn. After showing the gift in August Christmas for my sister, I feel that I am not so out of time, no?
For the summer I had prepared for this Fri port notes with an embroidery of Dany (I find her delightful patterns, have an affordable price and receive one soon). I used a linen Zweigart 16 hand-dyed yarn and thread number (I forget which)

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The next snow

The secret of our winter grass

invented sleeping on the balcony of an impossible space

recycled between stones and tiles

dreams of a suit of emotions

fire burning in the fireplace

wagging in greyness a hell of stars

play with your hair

stroked hoary tufts of clouds

in the well of laments the moon was back

comb chanted tufts

and clasped their hair confused

while my hands were lost in a thousand strands of kite

a pipe smelled of old wood

sandalwood and oriental mixture

a bow tie striped silk that still dancing between the tables of the back of an old chair

are traces of you

living shadow

reflects the image you

drenched in melancholy

to return to this mirror

to make me believe that I am delirious shadow of oblivion

and when you come back in the dark

carousel silent whispers and kisses

stumble in old roots of alder.

The soft snow warms your hands

air comes alive in the wreckage of life.

No corolla white blanket covers the

the whiteness of the night he disappeared

and throat of the path that climbs

sinks between the lines

leaving me to wait until the next snow .

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There is a ladder

There is a ladder of stones and moss

salt from the terrace of balcony closed

glimmers of white threads of old flood

greed any day

no history without waiting

you turn around

ruined peach bark advanced

fed burr heavenly

were a sapling

like her delicate body of petals and powerful trunk

but were balanced between the stones crumbling

tired feet weary smiles

yet were there

silent presence

to accompany my whispers

it was nice to hear your hat on breast

while looking expanse of grass and flowers of dandelion

kites out of place between the fingers.

I was embraced time

last rose of the prairie

And you run a shadow of a weeping

suddenly

meat suit .

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FOR SMALL ANNA

Last June, my friend Fran had a baby girl. Finally, some time ago I managed to make the acquaintance of sweet Anna, a lovely girl, a pleasure to cuddle. This is my little thought for her. I chose a kitten Margaret Sherry because I know that is a subject that appeals to mom and dad.

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You are my dream

In my twilight

I caress the eyes of the evening

in a bowl of shells

is the wind that scatters gold dust

thickens and stroking velvet

diadems of love on his fingers fluttering fantasy

my pillow Rope lichens

opens the petals of desire and rides

you appear

leftovers from nothing

royal passenger time

sumptuous knight rays sensual

take me between voices and music of passion

while the sky hugging deep

ivy trails and magnificent coral walls surround the

rainbow of large stones and rocks sad obsidian gallop the ashes of this meat

you who play to save my body

you that comes with the sword to enjoy my throat

that you hide from me in a coffin of water and sighs

light and I bare hands in a garden of peace

but the kingdom of memories kidnaps her lips

roar and whisper of melancholy

fruitful trees bend their faces

s'assiepano leaves and decorated with angels of wonder along the way

you are my dream

you to warm my bones are tired of lies and torments

you come with the warm winds of the south

dissolve a violent night of sadness

firefly fire one more night to hold my breath

the folly of innocence will

anemones and winter will stop on that carpet of bodies in love

then underfoot vacuum

rapacious eagle

return to dig grooves dressed in distress.

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ESW NR. 5

It 's been over a month from my participation in the Extreme Weekend Stitching nr. 5.

A weekend to look for the whole year:)

Once again the wonderful organizers, Vale, Lara Levi and managed to surprise us and make us feel really good. Too bad that it passes so fast ...

It 'good to reunite with many friends, chat, talk and talk (to embroider, at least for me, there was no time). On the other hand, recently I can not keep much in touch because time is very short and I had to sacrifice the computer, so it was a great opportunity to get a year of talk, spetteguless, and admiration of many masterpieces. Understand that there was no time for more!

This is the booty "material" that I brought home (the kitten, however reluctantly, I left there, my dogs would have liked ...)

course, the booty "moral "I can not show it to you but I assure you it is much more consistenete!

As usual there was the lottery and I was really lucky. I caught the amazing gift from my friend Paola . I was open-mouthed ...

This however is what I did and went to Carmen

And finally these are the little thoughts that I brought to all. Plaster casts of colorful, perfumed with essences, and then decorated with ribbons and flowers.

Las Tetas De Paty Manterola

Ivy never satiated

filaments of light inebriate

multiply arms crystal

between your legs closed

explodes my meal of ecstasy

ivy never satiated

are ethereal faces of pleasure

convulsive ossification of unfulfilled desires

lying on blankets of red and caresses of deceit

lie feelings and smells wild

wet words written by lascivious language

our guzzling intoxicating liquid

flickering patterns in the illusions of a restless sleep

thin sheets of orgasm

repeat the same dirge

and tired feet

tell of long journeys never shared

to the four winds still jet monograms and madness

seeds of lust and aphrodisiac incense.

Tranquillo Cremona "Ivy"

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shadows fade
in puddles of the night
reflections of amber and cobalt on
for traces of rain
marked the face of life
becomes burning coal
lumen of light dirt alleys.

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sky

Rows of perseverance in shadows dance
magic arms hanging vines
eyes wrecked
hands you lose leaves and reels
my azure sky hides
dreams and thoughts repudiated
while autumn
leaves and marcitudini
lies below.

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blaze of HEARTS IN BLUE

And voila the reagalo's Birthdays always for my little sister. A wooden box with a bunch of scompartini, painted, barely, an embroidery usual Parolin, always pleasant and quick to stitch, a bit 'of cord and an experiment with plaster molds and fragrances.

Schema: Hearts in bloom Renato Parolin

Threads: WDW Dutch Iris + GAST Oatmeal

Cloth: Linen Permin 40 cnt crude

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18!

And the little one at home has come of age. And I'm un'orgogliosissima mother.

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to do some 'order among the tricks of my daughter.

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A page

A page

wax and ink

words for me to be satisfied

vomiting talkative

my language is tinged with black

whispers or moans split origami

remote analgesic Desk engraved copper

born from poems light but hidden in the night

ink jet

saliva dissolves still hobbles voice

along boundary lines

infinite horizon in the mirror

delirious leaves without metamorphosis.

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I screamed in silence The storm

I screamed silently

between open night

wires stretched between mediocrity

between walls of dream

lace surprised with joy

I was there

between the envoys of my poppies

I was in the grass to watch the earth

mysterious creature of elves and witches

fertile woman in doubt ed'inganni

I tried a seed of light

to hide among the rocks

I approached the lip of the fog

wet life

but the silence has also buried my smile

screams too

that there is silence

screams that there is only silence

guttural

amniotic

visceral

silent desire

drowned in the flesh.

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The storm is all around us

roams all around the rubble

a resurgence of life

on the hill there's a fire

shoot from up there

concentric circles and no shelter for hares crazy

branches of hedges and walls breaker dream

gape of fiery explosions

our horizon has been lost

my love is away

a war without enemies

a battle with spears of hypocrisy

and you kiss

still on paper

between the lashes of shiny foil.