Of all the things a woman's hands have made,
The quilt so lightly thrown across her bed-
The quilt that keeps her loved ones warm-
Is woven of her love and dreams and thread
When I have spoken to you of its beauty-
"A mere hodge-podge of calico," you said,
"A necessity of homely fashioning,
Just a covering made of cloth and thread."
I knew you'd missed the message hidden there
by hands that fashioned quilts so long ago
Ambition and assurance are the patches
And the stitches of a quilt are love, I know.
I think a quilt is something very real-
A message of creation wrought in flame;
With grief and laughter sewn into its patches
I see beyond the shadows, dream and aim.
Carrie A. Hall
My neighbor is washing her windows,
And scrubbing and mopping her floors,
But my house is all topsy and turvy,
And dust is behind all the doors.
My neighbor, she keeps her house spotless,
and she goes all day on a trot:
But no one would know in a fortnight
If she swept today or not.
The task I am at is enticing-
My neighbor is worn to a rag-
I am making a quilt out of pieces
I saved in a pretty chintz bag.
And the quilt, I know my descendants
Will exhibit with credit to me-
"So lovely-my grandmother made it
Long ago in 1933 (fill in your own long ago)."
But will her grandchildren remember
Her struggles with dirt and decay?
They will not-they will wish she had made them
The quilt I am making today.
The Hope Chest
In a chest from childhood came
a trove of stuff when I changed my name
things my mother said were for kitchens to the bed,
dishes pots and pans
all kinds of things to put on stands
Lord those linens and towels
would I have enough dowels?
but the magic came from the chest grandpa built
when I unrolled all those quilts
the dresden plates and the fans quilted by grmother's hands
the dbl wedding ring made from all my calico things
years of memories came floating by
even tho happy I sat and cried
will my children ever know the meaning of that so long ago
I will leave them all a treasure
and hope they see the simple pleasures
of my love when I leave to go to the great above
Melody Wilson Bowers aka thequilter48