Queen-Anne’s Lace
William Carlos Williams
Her body is not so white as
anemony petals nor so smooth – nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
the field by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand’s span
of her whiteness. Wherever
his hand has lain there is
a tiny purple blemish. Each part
is a blossom under his touch
to which the fibres of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over –
or nothing.
I love the blend of words and pictures you put together so well, Penny. This morning I was enjoying the Queen Anne’s Lace blending with the blue chicory along our country roads showing off in the morning sun. We seem to be in sync so often, you and I.
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Thank you, Janet, for your kind words AND for giving me the name of blue chicory. I see it along the roadside and in fields and never knew what it was called. It does look lovely amongst the Queen Anne’s Lace and now I have a name for it. 🙂 We do seem to be in sync and it brings me such joy when it happens. Smiling here on the Cutoff, my friend.
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And, once again, a post of yours has brought supplemental benefits . . .
Queen Anne’s Lace has always been one of those things that says “summer” to me and I love to see her beside our roadways, swaying in the summer breezes. However, until I read this post that inspired further reading, I had no idea that she is related to the carrot, nor that, despite her USDA billing as a noxious weed, she can be cultivated as a companion to boost tomato plant production, or as a “microclimate” of cooler, moister air for lettuce. See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daucus_carota
Oh, I also “borrowed” your last pic for use as my computer wallpaper for a few days. She’s quite lovely, and she cannot drop any “noxious” seeds there. 🙂
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I’m so pleased to have brought you supplemental benefits, Karen. 🙂 You’ve made my day. I did not know of the benefits of Queen Anne’s Lace, especially as a companion plant to tomatoes. wow! I’m not sure I would want it in my salad, but, seems many cultures use it. Hmmm? She really does evoke summer and is such a lovely flower. We’re seeing larger clumps of it this year all around and I’m wondering if the long winter with all the snow had something to do with it.
Thank you. I love that it has been planted onto your computer screen with no noxious side effects.
Congrats on winning the book from Andra.
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Queen Anne’s Lace doesn’t grow naturally as a weed in SC. People from elsewhere found it hilarious when the South-of-Broad gardens all started using QAL as an ornamental plant.
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Funny, Andra, all these regional differences. I love this flower, but, it is considered a weed by most hereabouts.
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Always one of my favorites along the roads we travel. Remember trying to pick them when I was a little girl and finding out they are tough like dandelions! The photographs are such a perfect accompaniment for the poem.
Mr. or Mrs. Fox is back by our pier hunting for food. We think there is a den on one of the lots. Just opening the screen door is enough to scare it off. I would die if I ever came upon one in our basement!
Am glad to know Midnight is still your friend during these hot days. Do you know his “proper” name?
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Mine, too, Marilyn and they are abundantly beautiful this year. Thank you.
I’m sure he/she is a sly one and beautiful, though I would be cautious in the basement. Wouldn’t that be a scare, coming upon a fox? I wouldn’t be surprised if you saw young ones about. The kits are so cute.
I think Midnight’s given name is Snoopy, or one of the Peanuts characters, according to a neighbor. I think we all call him something different, for which he cares not, as long as he is taken care. He was sleeping quite contentedly in the weeds next door yesterday. 🙂
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Beautiful!!!
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Thank you, Nan.
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What precise and loving description by william Carlos Williams, and how enhanced the poem is by your images. Thank you Penny. I’m away on retreat so have only limited internet access for the next few days. This post was a treat.
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Isn’t it a lovely poem for a Queen? Thank you, Juliet. Enjoy your retreat.
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Gorgeous poem and photos. I love this phrase: “… until the whole field is a white desire …”
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I know, Teresa;it is such an evocative phrase. Thank you.
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I didn’t know that was a purple blemish in the center of the Queen Ann’s Lace, somewhere I heard or read that it was a drop of her blood that could be found In the center of each flower. I’m just going to have to google it….good pictures…hope your better, miss you…
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The flower stalk is nigh on a yard (one meter for my non-American and non-Liberian readers) high. The inflorescence, called an umbel, is made up of dozens to hundreds of tiny individual flowers. The flowers are white, with the common exception of a single wine- (or blood-!) colored flower in the center of the umbel, which is used to attract insects.
Don’t you hate when we both are right…..
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I’m responding now to both of your comments, Sharon, which you were so nice to write. Thank you for them, and for looking all this up. I love it – and yes, we are both so SMART! 🙂
Actually, it is the poet, William Carlos Williams, who wrote the words used here and it is his term “purple blemish” in the poem, not mine. I just copied it and gave him the credit.
Every time I look at Queen Anne’s Lace, it looks red to me and I’m always happy when I see pollinators on them.
Now, to add to all this “stuff”, it is a legend that while making lace, Queen Anne pricked her finger, marking a bloodstain on the lace – and that’s why there is red
in the center of the flower.
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Where I am at now, in the northeast, the daisies and lupine have given way to ‘The Queen” ! I enjoy pressing ( flower press) Queen- Ann’s lace ~ it comes out looking so elegantly lacy! Enjoyed your post!
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The daisies have been resplendent here this year. Sadly, lupines don’t grow as well in the midwest, so, I take out Miss Rumphious instead and have a joyful read.
Thank you. I will have to try pressing Queen Anne’s Lace. That sounds lovely. I saw a textile artist late this winter who incorporated Queen Anne’s Lace into her work. Do not know how she did it, but, it was fascinating.
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What a wonderful poem to accompany your beautiful Queen Anne’s Lace. I had almost forgotten its name, to be honest, but my mother and my grandmother before her always had some in their gardens. It brings back some lovely garden memories. I can’t wait to notice it again and find that purple blemish! I am delighted to have a moment in the garden with you, Penny! 🙂
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I am so glad that you enjoyed it, Debra. I wish you could see all the Queen Anne’s Lace hereabouts right now. They are rampant this year (probably to the dismay of many) and are putting on such a terrific show. Isn’t it an evocative poem? I enjoy William Carlos Williams, when I remember to look for his words.
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Beautiful words, beautiful pictures. What an astonishingly delicate flower it is!
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Thank you, Kate. It is a delicate looking flower, yet, it thrives on roadsides and fields. I wish you could see it en masse right now.
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What a beautiful melding of words and images, Penny. Thank you.
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You are most welcome, Perpetua.
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