Grandma's Hand Sewn Quilt

When the auctioneer first shows it, I feel a sudden piercing shock. My grandma's hand-sewn antique quilt Is on the auction block. It is the lovely basket pattern And her stitches are so neat, It must have taken tedious hours For my grandma to complete. I have taken such good care of it Since my daddy left it to me, And I wrapped up in it often When the day was dark and gloomy. Grandma sewed in her initials And the year that she had made it. One hundred-fifty-two years of wear and age Couldn't help but start to fade it. Grandma didn't know the fortune That her hand-stitched quilt could bring, When it was held up as an antique In a future auction ring. My heart is truly hurting And I cannot stop the tears, For giving up the treasure I have loved for all these years. Grandma made it for her hope chest, While my grandpa was at war. The year was Eighteen Sixty three. My grandma was twenty-four. But I know Grandma would agree with me, That the life of our little Nell Is worth more than a beloved quilt. It is the right time to sell. There is so much history going with it, To this quilt's lucky buyer. I hope he bids a hundred thousand. Or if we're lucky, even higher. For Auctioneer contest 100,000 dollars bid