I'm a Quilter
Threads are clinging to my clothes. How they got there goodness knows. But it's normal, I suppose.
I'm a quilter.
Fabric stowed beneath the bed. In the cupboards overhead,
Are boxes full of coloured thread.
I'm a quilter.
Meals are skimpy around here. Take-out is our frequent fare. Unused cookbooks everywhere.
I'm a quilter.
I sew by day. I sew by night. I even have a special light.
For rainy days, to make it bright.
I'm a quilter.
My stash gets bigger every day. I wish those sales would go away. Can I stop myself? No way!
I'm a quilter.
Thimbles line my window sill. All the latest gadgets will,
Find a place. I buy more still.
I'm a quilter.
Quilts are hanging everywhere. Empty spaces, very rare.
There is not an inch to spare.
I'm a quilter.
My husband has to go away. I should be sad, but I must say,
I plan to sit and sew all day.
I'm a quilter.
My friends are coming round to tea. (It really is a quilting bee.)
But we'll have lots of fun, you see,
They're quilters.
We're off to see a new quilt show. It's nearly twenty-nine below.
But that won't stop us going. No.
We're all Canadian quilters.
~ Ada Moyles~

Published in the Canadian Quilters' Association
Magazine - Winter 2015

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