Quilt Poems from Long Ago

Quilt Poems from Long Ago
I’ve been busy having a clean-up in my sewing room and I’ve come across a file that is full of interesting articles, poems, sayings and adages – all to do with quilting. I’ve been keeping this file for many, many years. I felt I needed to share some of these “gems” with you. As far as I can tell, they’re all anonymous. If you know of the author of any of the poems, please email me and I’ll give the credit where it’s due.

Hope you enjoy!!


Ingredients for being Creative
Creativity itself is easy to find
All it takes is a willing hand and mind
Start with some cloth, and a needle and thread
And perhaps some scraps stuffed under the bed
Mix with talent and true dedication
And just for good measure apply concentration
Blend this together in a room that’s a mess
And you’ve unleashed creativeness

Colour, match it,
Patchwork, patch it
Hurried? Tie it
Shortcut, try it
Pattern, trace it
Floor frame, brace it
Loose thread, snip it
Mistake, rip it
Quilt show, show it
Housework, stow it


A Poem for Patchworkers

Patchworkers are a different breed
The things we hope for, the things we need,
We wish for fabric to finish that row
We sometimes wish our guests would go

We wish all day for that time to be
That special time – that time for ME
Each needle is threaded, the colours arrayed,
Scissors and pattern have been carefully laid

Now we relax, this is our pleasure
Stitching this piece of soon-to-be treasure
We always ignore that mental warning
Stitching all night makes it rough in the morning

But times’ unimportant, we don’t heed clocks
We just need fabric and a sewing box
Our project awaits us, now we proceed
This must be Heaven – what more do we need?

Grandmothers Quilt

Blocks of yellow and red and blue,
And brown and checkered and figured too
Pieced in a pattern prim and straight
Section to section, a perfect mate
Never a seam with a slighted space
Never a ruche or gathered place
Carefully wrought, and fair to see
Grandmother’s quilt comes down to me.

Stitches even, short and fine
Set in a straight unbroken line
Each thread knotted with zealous care
Each seam fastened to hold and wear
Work of a wrinkled trembling hand
But carefully fashioned at first was planned
Fraught with a message may it be
Grandmother’s quilt that comes to me.

Just a whisper of quiet days
Of humble duties and lowly ways
Of life as selfless and fine and true
As these wondrous blocks of brown and blue
Of something better than social foam
The quiet hours in a well kept home
Of lasting worth, may they teachings be-
Grandmother’s quilt, come down to me

(from Grace Richard’s Grandmother’s Scrapbook over 100 years ago)

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