November Butterfly Challenge and Sketch Challenge

I was inspired at the eleventh hour to create a lo for the November Butterfly Challenge. I used the Beau Jardin sketch to get me going.

The flowers are from various Swirlydoo kits while all the papers are from the Beau Jardin kit. I added some leaves from my stash. The Eiffel Tower was embossed with white Puffs embossing powder and then inked with TH Frayed Burlap (my new favorite color). Prima tape was added to the Martha Stewart heart punched strip. The Prima resin corners were inked with TH Frayed Burlap. Prima SIIP was cut into pieces and scattered throughout the lo. Crocheted doily is from Joann's.

Journaling is actually a part of "Paris", a poem written by Alan Seeger.

First, London, for its myriads; for its height,
Manhattan heaped in towering stalagmite;
But Paris for the smoothness of the paths
That lead the heart unto the heart's delight. . . .

Fair loiterer on the threshold of those days
When there's no lovelier prize the world displays
Than, having beauty and your twenty years,
You have the means to conquer and the ways,

And coming where the crossroads separate
And down each vista glories and wonders wait,
Crowning each path with pinnacles so fair
You know not which to choose, and hesitate --

Oh, go to Paris. . . . In the midday gloom
Of some old quarter take a little room
That looks off over Paris and its towers
From Saint Gervais round to the Emperor's Tomb, --

So high that you can hear a mating dove
Croon down the chimney from the roof above,
See Notre Dame and know how sweet it is
To wake between Our Lady and our love.

And have a little balcony to bring
Fair plants to fill with verdure and blossoming,
That sparrows seek, to feed from pretty hands,
And swallows circle over in the Spring.

There of an evening you shall sit at ease
In the sweet month of flowering chestnut-trees,
There with your little darling in your arms,
Your pretty dark-eyed Manon or Louise.

And looking out over the domes and towers
That chime the fleeting quarters and the hours,
While the bright clouds banked eastward back of them
Blush in the sunset, pink as hawthorn flowers,

You cannot fail to think, as I have done,
Some of life's ends attained, so you be one
Who measures life's attainment by the hours
That Joy has rescued from oblivion.

tfl!