Patchwork
I learned to sow by my hand,
it was my mother's favorite trade-
we'd sit in the sowing room for hours,
persisted until the piece was made.
One day, we got the notion,
a beautiful patchwork was to be built-
a tribute splendor to friends in life
we began searching patches for the "friendship quilt".
We got the insulated backing, big, soft
and cushiony, mushy like foam-
only a few patches when she died,
so it sat on the piano till I left home.
As years went on by,
I've sown patches then and now
at times my fingers so nimble,
other times, I'd forgotten how.
Different colors and patterns
for each friend in life I've known
textures like fur and leather,
iron-ons to plain patches sown.
Patches of teddy bears and trees,
suns and moons and roses,
rains and rainbows, shooting stars,
even a door that opens and closes.
Baby girl pink patches,
two dainty cups of tea,
bandanas and bananas,
and a sailor on the sea.
Patches of fire and literature,
a swatch of a robe worn by a queen,
guitars and snow and soaring Eagles,
clouds surrounding a fulfilled dream.
Mom didn't know the significance of it,
back then, the purpose wasn't known,
only a tribute of splendid friends,
to look at and say it was hand-sown.
But the meaning of it came to me-
it was in a dream that I was told,
when I'm feeling down-and-out, I turn
up the air and make it really cold
I wrap myself up tightly in that patchwork quilt
and I'm surrounded by a lifetime of friendships built.