The Skeletons Of Quilting

I was thumbing though a manila folder of poems that I’ve collected over the years and came across this delight that had been posted in a local quilt magazine in the 1980’s. I have Jenny Riley’s permission to reprint it here for you.
If you’re a collector of UFO’s then you will enjoy this little giggle.


The Skeletons of Quilting

Can you put your hand upon your heart?
And say you finish all you start
That in your cupboard there is not
A project started and forgot
Of half done things your shelves are bare
There is no skeleton lurking there?
Either my friend you tell a lie
Or have more ruthlessness than I

What should I do? I hear you say
For I’ve improved along the way
And colours I chose yesterday
Are not the ones I choose today?
The pattern I liked was far too hard
And I’m short of fabric by half a yard
But I’m not too mean to throw it out
So I must be finished without a doubt

What of the set of place mats there?
A Christmas gift for yesteryear
Designs I like technique is good
I’ll finish them I know I should
About that cushion at the back
Why choose white instead of black?
There’s the pile of blocks I won last year
I almost forgot that they were there

But my latest project beckons me
So many things to learn you see
And books show things I just might try
Or mainstream work will pass be by
And samplers are not enough I know
And I want to send something to the Show
But that new design looks a lot of fun
And perhaps THIS time I’ll get it done!

Upon my shelf is a Storm at Sea
And it doesn’t look as it’s meant to be
Instead of putting it on one side
It should have gone on an outgoing tide
And a sampler quilt in shades I love
Sits sadly on the shelf above
They don’t deserve to be left not done,
For they were once “Project Number One”

Our quilting things are a part of us
Is it fair to them to leave them thus?
They helped us make each forward stride
Why should they just be pushed aside?
Turn them into things we can all admire
By using the skills they helped you acquire
With a conscience clear, and a space you gain
And you could start the rigmarole again!

By Jenny Riley