QUILT:

Stitch by silken stitch, from nimble fingers sewn,

The soft quilt emerging & with each square grown,

The perfections of their God is humanly forbidden,

In each stitch, the word of God is well & truly hidden.

Patches saved from old hems & well worn faded drapes,

Given now new life & bestowed with new-oath’s dues,

By maidens, mothers & those seasoned wise old crones,

Stitching ancestors secrets into its framed ancient bones.

Centuries past now uniting, under swift fingers soft & deft,

Love & promises caressed, into every silken threaded weft,

The quilt slowly emerges, serenaded by the old stories told,

By women of eons past, from the young to the very, very old.

Sewn bird-strewn skies of blue & green waving wheaten fields,

Sun of gold, rainbows & scudding white clouds high overhead,

Trees tall, poppies red & forests of lilacs, to lay your weary head,

Stories & tales, woven into the quilt for the waiting wedding bed.

Delicate fingers sore & many waxing years of stitching now gone by,

At last the quilt is beautiful, perfect & complete, all the women sigh,

United in lost time, lost legends, lost tales & in the lost original sins,

The quilt, a treasure chest with the removal of the uniting final pins.