Sewing Machine Poems - Poems about Sewing Machine

The daughter of a professional seamstress, I am a tactile learner, I have to feel the possible fabric to make a decision. If it is rough like linen or denim, I am not a fan. I like flowing soft, pliable easy materials Unless I am trying to sew them together Slick and elusive, velvet, satin and silk fabrics are difficult...

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A manual sewing machine Strenuous but beneficial It sews dresses Two edges meet And being stitched together Passion and reunion in life too Two hearts meet and stay together It mends dresses A hole in life must be patched too Life isn't easy Deficiency to be filled Scars to be healed Pains to be reduced Misunderstanding to be unraveled It corrects dresses Corrections are made to life too To...

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Sewing machine, long idle, gathers dust Its graceful frame a filigree of rust Needle, naked pointing to its resting place A symbol of the toll all life will take Sunshine streams surreal through silent space Past the broken stone that was a window case Beams of sunlight scatter wildly in their blame Illuminating memories of pain Love's last hallowed hiding place reviled Beneath the...

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I have pieces of sewing machines all over my house. Most of the pieces are there, but not all of them, Of course I do not discover this until I want to use them. One is missing the front dial, Another is missing the thing that holds the bobbin in. A third is all there except for the pressure foot,...

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Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust in Grandma's loft I found, the week after we laid her to rest next to her slain husband. He was only twenty four yet a squadron leader when his spitfire was shot down over France. Mother was only three at the time and my uncle a babe in Grandma's arms. How awful yet how familiar those...

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Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust Time to fix, needles gone, must have bust Last to use, mama's hand Peddles low, set on stand Thread on bobbin, red, white and blue Dried up tube of Elmer's glue On the side a wrinkled shirt Filled in holes, filth in dirt The war years seem like yesterday Some...

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Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust Old, as mama told, worn, left here to rust I slowly examined the antique piece Candle flame flickered, anxiety increased Nothing odd on top or with pedal gears Was mama bat crazy all these years? Story after story and death bed request I wanted to put an end to this mess The war years seemed like yesterday To...

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