A Doily a Day
delicate lace linked by crochet
labyrinthine stitches a doily a day
counted by repetitious candlelight
motherly hands of preponderant foresight
twisting and surrender of silent threads
tucking each one into intricate spreads
lovingly lace reflects persistence of face
a warm cosseted Victorian embrace
from hands that stumbled with wrinkles
forlorn and gnarled knots, catastrophic crinkles
yet the warm, soft hand that comforts her ill
a kin that kindles the fire and spins with skill
she’s mastered the lessons rendered at the knee
of longsuffering love and mother’s humble marquee
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