While going through some things in my parent’s old farmhouse, I came across an unfinished quilt top in an old chest. I’m not sure who it belonged to or how old it is, but it inspired me to write this poem. Since today is National Poetry Day, I thought it would be a good time to share it.
The Old Quilt
As I admire the old quilt top I hold in my hands,
I wonder who stitched such intricate strands.
Did it belong to my mother, grandmother, or someone else,
this treasure unearthed in the old farmhouse?
The worn out fabrics of days gone by,
cause me to ponder and wonder why
this quilt was never finished, why it lies undone,
did the cares of life take over the fun?
Was this unknown lady like me with projects galore,
too numerous to finish, yet always starting one more?
Was her life fraught with problems too difficult to bear,
like me did she stitch to forget her cares?
Did she quietly reflect upon God’s amazing grace,
as she guided her needle at a steady pace?
Was this quilt pieced together to cover a bed,
or over the couch was it to be spread?
Perhaps it was intended for a brand new bride,
or to keep legs warm on a winter carriage ride.
Did the sewer’s hands grow tired and weary with age,
did health issues afflict her and take center stage?
Did her life on earth end while in the midst of the task?
So many questions I wish I could ask…
of this unknown lady of generations past.