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Poem

A Stitch in Time
My jeans are beautiful; patterned with grace.
They are signed by the stars, in every place. 
The drawings embroidered for one and all to see,
Are entered in a craft contest, but is there only me?
Each stitch is placed-exactly so, 
The colours fantastic, some seem to glow.
The contest was for originality,
With craft-work so beautiful I prayed it was me.

Twenty years they had taken from being a girl,
I embroidered every French knot split-stitch and curl.
With plain stitches and chain stitches, each exactly the right size,
I entered them hoping I would win the big prize.
I picked up the phone it was the judging day
“Hello you have won” is what they did say.
Your jeans are fantastic we want to keep and display
The work you have put in for this contest today.

My jeans took pride of place on the wall in the room.
My heat beat so loudly; I thought I would swoon.
My twenty years of sewing to keep myself sane,
Through surgery and physio, to help with the pain.
They had won me an accolade I’ll never forget,
My jeans hung and photographed, and it was just for a bet.

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