Best Quilt Poems
Listen
you who seek the secret of existence
your life is a thread in the Beloved's grand design.
Each moment a stitch each breath a color divine.
Do you see
how rain and sun kiss the earth?
Like morning dew they are one in the eyes of the Friend.
Embrace both
for in their unity duality ends.
You are the pulse of a seed sprouting through the stone.
In your veins flows the ancient wisdom of the soil.
In love's alchemy the seeker becomes the sought.
Feel how the wind of spirit shapes you
now bending like a reed now standing as a cypress.
In surrender find the strength that never wavers.
The heart's fire burns away all that is not love.
Desire, like wild winds, seeks its way to the sacred fire
in consuming they become the light they seek.
Each thread of your being sings the Beloved's name.
Listen closely can you hear the melody of oneness?
In that song
you'll find your true existence.
The fabric of your days shimmers with divine light:
Golden Joy. Silver Sorrow... all are His gifts.
In accepting all
you become... His perfect reflection.
O lover do not ask why some paths are sharp as thorns
and others soft as the dawn's first breath.
The Master Weaver's wisdom surpasses all understanding.
Let yourself dissolve in love's infinite sea.
You are both the wave and the ocean's depths.
In annihilation, find your eternal completion...
Beloved you are the quilt and the quilter
the song and the singer,
the dance and the dancer.
In this realization all separation ceases.
Now step into the garden of the heart—
where every seed sprouts with the faces of our Friends.
Here in agape love's transcendence
you will find your journey's end.
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
Memory Quilt “ For Auction contest “
Welcome all to today’s prestige event
Let us start the day ladies and gentlefolk
We have this wonderful memory quilt
For your deliberation and delectation today
It was made by two elderly spinster sisters
When they decided to do this quilt they decided a pattern
And they thought they would use pieces from dresses
The one they wore in their younger years
There are pieces from a day dresses, morning, and evening
Each one holding a special memory for them both
As they had worn them to many events when young
Each section of cloth has been cut very precise and sew with loving care
A selection of shapes are involved in this,
The principle ones, lozenge and triangle shape to form the main squares
This then makes up the size large enough to be used on the bed
They embellished it with heart and circles and lovely flowers
These being the decorations from the dresses themselves
This work took the sister six years to lovingly to complete
And it is all hand stitched onto a pale blue linen cloth to hold it complete
This wonderful piece comes with a description of each dress
Also on which occasion it was worn by either of them
It became an item beyond price to them when it was finished
I hope ladies and gentlemen that this will give some idea
Of the memories, work and heart ache involved
In the making of this superb memory quilt
I know that this quilt will reach a very high price today
Myself I would place a bid of fifteen thousand
But it will not be enough I fear
Walking stick stroking limestone paths
sunshine warming these patina hands-
A fleeting chorus of gold-winged finch,
God sashaying over cherry wood violins-
Turtles playing dominoes on mossy stones
amidst cattails and croaking saxophones-
Cardinal splashing in blue spruce pines
emerald hoppers popping out a nursery rhyme-
Maple leaves flaunting sweetened faces
Hot pants angels sowing quilts for Earth Day-
2/16/19
God stitches together our life story
A patchwork quilt sewn meticulously
With all the best and tough times included
Not any experience excluded.
God watches over us and it does seem
That He doth perfectly sew a fine seam
Our quilt keeps on growing out in the mist
So we leave behind His wonderful gift.
Every stitch is sewn in with tender care
Each patch having unique stories to share
Stories telling all that we are made of
Our worries, troubles and mostly our love.
Reminders of all the deeds we have done
Plenty to recall, all happiness spun
Then when the quilt has come to completion
Hopefully it's a worthy achievement.
Each patch is a piece of our history
The essence that makes up who's you and me
Tears and fears that our ups and downs arouse
The laughter, the smiles that wrinkle our brows.
Thank God for His love and His tender care
For the quilt that'll warm someone's heart somewhere.
The wind
comes in at night,
bringing with it new ghosts
but I'm wrapped tight in mother's quilt,
each painstaken swatch stitched by her own hand
She sings a breathy lullabye
and rocks me to sleep in
the cradle of
the wind
Oh, what a quilt you weave- our universe-
so full of colors from your nebulae
and golden stars that blink like cosmic eyes.
But, above those- too far away to see-
your layer of stardust stretches out beyond
what we can fathom- your infinity.
June 16, 2020
Written: December 19, 2023
____________________________________________
In silken sheen of grace
with gleaming, auric strings
wedged ambrosian wonder;
once shown in ancient space
tough, spark us to ponder.
In silken sheen of grace
and I stroked the mauve scent,
and snow fell on the frame
with all plush of my heart
I sense it least would claim.
In silken sheen of grace,
I searched for unique yarns
what a charmed loom may pose
that caught the season's bloom;
they held their blossoms close.
In silken sheen of grace
the hazy breath of gold
the zooming, meager flame,
Its charm shielding my heart,
counting each one by name.
God blessed me with a grandma of many talents,
And one of them always left me thoroughly amazed.
It was the way she collected square scraps of cloth
To make quilts that seemed worthy of praise.
Each with its own colors and textures,
Of rare beauty in pattern and design,
She formed them with love
Into a tapestry of aesthetics sublime.
These squares of fabric became a work of art
In my grandma’s talented and trained hands.
These treasures have become a fond remembrance,
Over the years since my grandma left for elysian lands.
It intrigues me how these patchworks of varying textures
Became such sources of hospitable warmth and amenity.
They stir my sentimental thoughts about many distinct folk
That I recall from my youth who became my extended family.
They kept me feeling comfortable and warm with attentive care,
Much like the quilts my grandma made with many a fabric square.
While men worked hard until the barn was built,
the womenfolk were gathered for a bee.
They pieced together patches for a quilt
and chatted with the new bride happily.
Upon this handmade quilt were babies laid,
and eldest daughters passed the heirloom down.
That barn became the place where children played
as houses multiplied. There grew a town.
The quilt, once shown with pride, became forgot,
and decades in an attic it was stored.
One day a fire blazed; the things not sought
stayed in the loft, while saved were things adored.
And so a bride’s first gift in ashes lay;
its glory long ago had passed away.
by Andrea Dietrich
For Nette Onclaude's Contest:
"Anything Handmade"
There once was an ol'man named Moe
made quilts but never learned to sew.
He put'em together with gray tape
made with all kinds of colors,shapes.
Number of quilts he made was only two.
Teresa Skyles
Entered in John Freeman's"Slapstick limerick"contest
Lays before me, a quilt of calico.
Deep and soft, spilt upon the woodland path.
Born of crimson kites with golden hues,
cast, as trees unburden, prepare for sleep.
Scents sweeten the sip of Autumn's blaze,
that tender nip of frosted morn.
Melding earth, sun and rain upon the wind,
made worth, the heady anticipation.
Oh my, I'm suffering from wind
I just wish my body would rescind
For my quilt I do probe
It's on top of my wardrobe
Out of reach and totally pinned
.
Inspired by Jan Allison's Poem 'The Real Gods of Wind'
Everyone's life is a patchwork quilt
Made of good times and times of strife
What makes it such a colourful quilt
Are those special moments in life
Moments that change the mosaic forever
When forced to choose a new path
Uncertainty and apprehension takes hold
Each change more scary than the last
A myriad of events beyond our control
Overcome us and we tremble with fear
But as always, our faith guides us on through
And we manage to persevere
How dull and mundane our lives would be
Without these moments of colour
They add a new square so unique and diverse
It's a work of art like no other
Everyone's life is a patchwork quilt
Made of good times and times of strife
This colourful quilt is a true example
Of a unique and treasured life
Everyone's life is a patchwork quilt
Made of good times and times of strife
What makes it such a colourful quilt
Are those special moments in life
Moments that change the mosaic forever
When forced to choose a new path
Uncertainty and apprehension takes hold
Each change more scary than the last
A myriad of events beyond our control
Overcome us and we tremble with fear
But always, our faith guides us on through
And we manage to persevere
How dull and mundane our lives would be
Without these moments of colour
They add a new square unique and diverse
It's a work of art like no other
Everyone's life is a patchwork quilt
Made of good times and times of strife
This colourful quilt is a true testament
Of a unique and treasured life