Ilene Bauer Poet Rhyme

In My Quilting Class

My stitches aren’t even;
My squares don’t line up straight
And if you want a quilt from me,
It’s years you’ll have to wait.

Yet every Thursday, there I sit,
My needle pulling thread,
With not a thought beyond that room
Carousing in my head.

I’m calm, relaxed and in control
And while my scissors snip,
I bask in camaraderie
And crafting fellowship.

My projects hang around the house
And in my grandkids’ rooms,
But it is in my quilting class
Where my composure blooms.

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Maurice Rigoler October 30, 2018 at 8:49 PM I can relate to your joy of quilting. I was raised in a family of of 7 aunts whose mother (my grandmama) who made an evening each week to work on a guilt. Nothing fancy, just what they called a "crazy quilt" because nothing matched and all the many pieces differed in shape. My mother, however, in her later years did so some beautiful patterned guilts, and I even designed a pattern for her. Nicely written, Ilene. Thanks for stopping by. / M

Rico Leffanta October 26, 2018 at 12:57 PM Another "Nicely done"! My grandmother left a treasury of quilts including one which her great-grandfather had carded the wool, so it is time well spent, but - as talented as you are, I suspect you were still composing poetry! Aloha! Rico

Chris Green October 26, 2018 at 8:05 AM I can relate to this, not that I quilt but I know those who do and it seems that when they are sitting there with needle in hand there is no better place to be. Nice one Ilene.

Line Gauthier October 25, 2018 at 4:36 PM Wonderful, Ilene. Sounds like you found the perfect group... if only they could meet more often, right? Lovely poem.