A Quilters Poem
I don't know where I got this poem, but it really says how I feel about quilting. It's a wonderful poem, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Quilter's Lament …
submitted by Crystal Rathbun, Sundance, WY.
I love beautiful fabrics, I hoard them
I spend hours and hours oohing & aahing over them
They look so lovely in my stash on the shelf
I consider them my treasures, my pleasures, my wealth.
There are patterns and designs to play games with my mind
Weaving their mystery time after time
With loving stitches for loved ones and friends
A never end to the expression it lends.
There are Batiks and Modas, a challenge that's true
Those of the 30s and Depression, too
Like an artists' palette, imagination takes shape
And, I've decided once more, a new quilt I'll make.
So, out comes the library of books full of patterns
I've hoarded and saved all those that matter.
Decisions, decisions, what one shall I make?
One of beauty, make no mistake.
But, then there's that box sitting high on the shelf
Labeled 'Possible Quilt' and I say to myself –
What must I have been thinking – Did my mind go astray?
Oh – I'll make something lovely with it one day.
There is no such thing as a Butt-Ugly quilt
It's only because I am laden with guilt
That I find myself in this state of mind
What do I see when I look one last time?
A missing link that's been there all the time.
I'll add an embellishment and my thoughts will unwind.
It's beautiful now, I'm sure you'll agree
I can show it with pleasure now, for all to see.
What a great legacy I'll leave behind
And, go on to grace heaven with pieces so fine
To God give the glory – A talent gave He
To leave to my children, a small piece of me.