Hanging Patchwork Poem by Loyd C Taylor Sr

The cowering grass covered in morning dew
And the Georgia pines kingly and tall
As the shy little creatures share sleep
In cozy nests, they make not a peep.
There, I survey golden colors like fall,
Yet it is not a season in view.

The line is stretched, wood fingers hold tight
As the gentle Southern breeze lets live.
The golden morning revives as colors renew.
A masterpiece of beauty entrances my view.
As a surgeon, worn fingers stitched it to give
Warming comfort and cover at night.