Her tired fingers pinched and squeezed,
Poked and clasped through the sandwich of cloth.
Her eyes squinted, looking through the years of age,
She knew much longer she wouldn’t be able to do more.
But, it filled her quiet days since he’d passed away.
Pieces of cloth cut from old house dresses,
Children’s and grandchildren’s clothes too.
Her daughter-in-law would be along soon,
Whisking her away to the fabric store in town.
The quilting frame was already set with today’s project.
Brightly colored fabrics already pieced,
Batting sandwiched in the middle.
This one is for the next bride in the family;
Each young lady would eventually get one.
The gossip starts as they gather around,
What happened at church, who is in to visit,
And the stories carried on and on
While each stitch was delivered with love.
Soon the quilt would be ready for binding,
While another one waited in the wings.
Such were the days of the quilting bees.