Best Treadle Poems

The old screen door still welcomes me, a familiar song I've heard before..
But oddly now, it's out of tune.  It has a wail of some despair
After this,...who'll pass this way?
Will they use the rug and wipe their feet, erase away the grime or sleet?
Or...

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Blue-checkered curtains are faded and drawn,..
after the years since she made them from gunny-sack cloth

The Singer, long idle, now gathers more dust,
with its needle still threaded and the treadle at rest

As I clear out the room, I think of long hours
of foot-peddled power, and strength...

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A combination of Haiku and Kyoka

designer originals
from feed sacks
after the chickens were fed

her artist's touch
honed with the aid
of her foot movement
on the treadle machine...

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With a huge geometry of bones and ribs
my father stands amidst us,
like an age-old iron pillar,
high durable, tensile and unbrittle
he is, the lonesome cantilever.

Though I know not,
perhaps he could be in immense pain,
or suffering from his terrible wounds;
but neither I feel nor touch
as I fear;
may...

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Quail not at Death’s door if you wrought no wilful harm

Quail not at Death’s door if you wrought no wilful harm
Should turning back in vengeance be the Dead Man’s qualm
Though even as the end nears the comfort of proffered pardon
Will in no way replace the...

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Tossing and turning after a heavy economic loss
The shock shattered my peace of nights
Hugging my pillow tight with unshed tears
The sorrowful thoughts trudged haltingly
To my grandma's antique sewing machine
Lying impassively in the cluttered store
Guilt shook me out of my sluggish memories 
Over the dormant treasure...

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Kitchen counters alive; the vivid colors of red, green, purple and yellow glass jars. Your garden flourished.
.
Pickled beets mingle boiled eggs; a pretty periwinkle purple.
.
Yellow and purple tinted fingers; dandelions and elderberries distilling; musty aroma permeated by sweet wine. A balloon implodes.
.
(I bet you didn’t...

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I found in my tapestry
a rare golden thread,
I began to unravel it
to see where it led

The weft that was freed 
from the intricate weave, 
changed the course of my life
more than I'd ever conceive

While the threads of my past
went back through the heddle,
they were detached...

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Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Its turn-of-the-century frame clad in rust

Sitting in the old attic’s dim lighting
It revived memories uninviting

Her dauntless spirit still seemed to be there
Helen, hard at work in her wicker chair

The bobbin spun as she pressed the treadle
To mend her husband’s Civil...

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Vicky is an archer, born on the 14th of April,
In 1977, and started getting that archery thrill,
In 2010 when she competed for the first time:
She found archery thru a friend’s lucid dime.

She lives in Malvern in Worcester, England, 
So she trains in Lillishall in Shropshire’s...

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The Object Lesson
Written: By Miracle Man
3/15/2019

In minutes the tornado had abandoned the scene,
Undisturbed, was a borrowed, glass Butter churn.
Still sitting on the treadle of her old sewing machine,
Placed there awaiting an opportune time for return.

In the yard, what remained, of the trunk of a tree,
Bed...

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Slip Stitch

gave chase
lost face

Whip Stitch

LaRue
debut

Loose Stitch

sought it
lost it

Old Sewl

pedal
treadle...

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The Christmas Zipper 
David J Walker

That tool kit you gave me
At two, Mom 
was meant to be a toy
But made of real metal 
How did I know 
What to do with the saw 
That I called a “Zipper”
Did I see Dad 
Zipping through boards?
I only...

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Sex for you is all I have.
Just a simple title.
The chance to give you all I am
just to keep you vital.

A pleasure we could do without
for just a little mettle.
But really who're we running from
We'll just admit to settle.

But wait- there's more to me than...

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