The old quilt . . .
Its softness is enhanced
By age and use.
Its colors faded by the light of many days,
And its fibers show wear
Yet its beauty is all I see,
All I feel,
And all I know.
Its story is one of patience
And of time and effort.
It contains both pain and pleasure.
The fabrics of many lives intertwined
To become one . . .
It is not one story,
But rather generations of stories
Shared by the fire,
Told over tea,
Revealed as fine thread
Wove scraps of many lives
Into something too beautiful not to share.
By Martha L Shaw – © 2013
This lovely quilt, subject of the symbolism in my poem, goes back multiple generations in my family and is approx 150 years old. Oh, the stories it has to tell me are many!
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I love the idea of interconnectedness that comes through this poem. Fibers stretching back generations…
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Thank you!
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Very beautiful poem and quilt.
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Martha, Is the picture featured the real quilt in your beautiful poem? My grandma made me one very similar. She called it a yo-yo spread. I remember her working for hours on it. I treasure my quilt made with her loving hands.
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YES! All hand made in the traditional way of sewing scraps and old clothes! LOVE LOVE LOVE!
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