There's a dear little plant that grows in Ireland.
'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it.
And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile.
And a tear from his eyes oft-times wet it.
It grows thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
And it's called the dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant still grows in our land,
Fresh and fair as the daughters of Erin,
Whose smiles can bewitch, and whose eyes can command,
In each climate they ever appear in:
For they shine thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
Just like their own dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant that springs from our soil,
When its three little leaves are extended,
Denotes from the stalk we together should toil,
And ourselves by ourselves be befriended.
And still thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
From one root should branch, like the Shamrock of Ireland.
With this little poem in mind, I set out last night to make some shamrocks/clovers out of fine silver. At first I made one out of sterling silver with a wire wrapped stem, but it wasn't exactly what I was aiming for....so I'll be keeping that one for myself :) That's just another perk of making jewelry! Below is what the final product looks like, and I've paired it with a faceted green Opal heart briolette.
Well I just received my PMC books in the mail...so I'm off to lose myself in the creativity found in those many pages :)
