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The sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Held my attention to make it work against rust
Reminding me “I am whom your mother did trust…
To clothe you well from harm of sun, wind and gust.”

Oh, I’m sorry to forget Mom’s tool so great 
In crafting masterpiece of excellent rate
That showed her love, care and nurture – never late
While testifying about God midst bad fate.

“The war years seemed like only yesterday…
Great is the Lord* for prevailing in His way
He’s in control and in Him, there’s no delay
Let’s believe Him always.”  Good words she would say.

From that wondrous memory emerged hope’s mark
To wake up with faith’s light and courage-spark
So I lay joyous in the Lord’s peace-bulwark
While candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark.

*Psalm 145:3 Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; and his greatness is unsearchable.

April 14, 2018

6th place, "One Nine and Sixteen" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Viv Wigley; judged on 5/2/2018. 

Featured among Poems of the Week from March 19-25, 2023.

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