Louisas Quilt Poem by Joseph Enright
Louisas Quilt
In her sewing room
She sits on her seat,
Cloths of many colors
Strewn at her feet.
Oval, triangle, rectangle and square,
She makes them all fit,
A little bit here, ...a little bit there.
She mixes purple and orange,
And green and red,
To make a quilt
To cover her bed.
With each careful stitch
It grows and grows,
Down to the floor it swiftly flows.
In the middle a fish of green
Amidst colors of the rainbow
Can be seen.
Now at last the quilt is made
Across her bed, A bright cascade
As if from a rainbow
It did bloom
And scattered colours
Across her room....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/24/2024 6:29:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Quilts are made to share A gift to someone for which you care Made with hands growing old and pain-ridden But finish it she must as she is driven To make just one more before she's done, Then that's for her bed alone. And who will get it when she's gone? Maybe some child that'll come along Who'll appreciate the fine gift that it is, One that can be claimed as hers or his. My mom made many quilts and each seemed to stay on her bed just a short while before it was gone and another took its place. We all treasure these quilts and use them daily, for they were made to be used.