The Quilt

Later Version

On cold nights with my candle
burning brightly I seamed
multi-colored fabrics,
wool and flax worked by my hands,
linen and silk and cotton prints
bought by my thrift and economy.

Pink and yellow scraps left from
girls frocks and pinafores,
petticoats rustling as they skip
through house and home,
laces and ribbons and silk
line their tiny sewing baskets
as they, too, learn to stitch
doll clothes of their very own.
The girls are a blessing, laughing
brown eyes reading lessons.

Scarlet and purple bits and pieces
left from days of sewing
work dresses and sun bonnets,
those pieces worn as I labored long
about the house and garden,
clothing that protected
my arms and neck from weary hours
working in the summer sun.

Brown and gray from remnants
of the thick jackets and trousers
of solemn and strong brown-eyed boys,
calicoes from shirts that were ripped
breaking the young stud colt,
sturdy clothing from the rough and
tumble boys who work hard at play,
linings from woolen caps and mits
to keep the little ones warm.

And from you, the wool over-shirts
and night shirts and sack coats,
sturdy clothes for a man of virtue.
Our lives twined through the
thread of my needles as I clothed
our family through every season.
Until through quiet industry,
there were enough fabric squares
to cover the big feather bed.

Be not afraid of the snow.
After all the tiny hand-stitches
have finally been completed,
the warm wool-lined coverlet
strengthened with my diligence,
pieced from our every day lives,
will bring comfort to your soul.

Beauty is vain, and time is fleeting.
When I can no longer wrap
you in my arms.
You will still have the work of
my heart to keep you warm.

Author's Note

the note about the seasons caused a change. no matter how old my words are they still find themselves subject to scrutiny.

Reviews

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

This was quite beautiful, both on the surface and metaphorically. When I was a child, my grandmother would stitch quilts--she used fabrics from clothing as well. When her mother passed away, she stitched a quilt for each of us from pieces of her dresses; it was quite special. I could see this unfolding on the page as I read.

Metaphorically, I love the way that you brought in each "player" and showed how despite life's changing seasons, circumstances, etc., if we stitch together the fabrics of those who we love, we will be held together forever. This is creation. Well done.

[Jibey]

A lovely patchwork of colourful words, conveying a mother's love as she plies her craft with its charm and skill, motivated by love for her dear ones... Delightful

[Jonhoi Vaughn]

I have realised that the reason that I am always so in love with your work is that they tell a story. I cannot help but admire the ease at which the words are "quilted" to warm my heart. Reading your poems is like walking in a shady tree-house with over 50 years of history. I can only hope I can get a copy of your publications one day. ^_^

[Blue Sky]

a fine piece of work
all them sorts and varieties of fabrics
stitches and hemmed with much love and care
sewn for all reasons and seasons!
a real pleasure to read your find work!!

[Dianne]

I love a hand made quilt. It is love made physical, like a permanent hug that you can keep with you to warm your heart as well as your body. This is a truly warming poem.

[Paza]

One thing I always loved about piecing together a patchwork quilt was the memories that come from each of the different fabrics. This poem captured that so perfectly. A quilt is far more than the sum of it's pieces. A quilt is the holder of family memories. Beautiful work.

[Samuel Dickens]

Profound words, Emily. Although my mother has been gone for 35 years, I still have the quilt she made from tiny bits of scrap, just as you described. A quilt is a truly wonderful thing that says, does, and means so much. The saying "more than the sum of its parts" could never be more appropriate than when said about a quilt.

[AK]

This is so lovely! It truly is!!!

[Gandré]

hello Emily, now I have read this great poem; it radiated harmony, even yes humbleness und I noted your sense for the right versification. I love the ambiguity in this piece, where you are describing how seasons are passing by on the family life and the manufacturing of the woolen plaid on the other side. I also loved your using the language, especially in the 4th stanza (favorite) and usage of word... wonderful. This poem has got a very peaceful pace, just that even me as reader feels the happiness of this family. I really loved it, it has a strong appeal. Be well.

[DRIVEN]

...and you have seamed multi-colored words and feelings to form a beautiful poem

[Toni Prehoda Kahler]

This piece is beautiful in its simple scenes, and deep because it tells the story of ordinary days, and now they are colors, memories, from your hands. I know what is important to you - your family - and I love how you take me through this pioneer setting, stitching the images, allowing me to see how you love.

I love "Our lives twined through the thread of my needles..." and then on to "Be not afraid of the snow.." I love how you have taken through days, and through love, to the true meaning of love at the last. This is a wonderful piece, one I can read again and again.