The silk lilies sit in the crystal vase, worn and dusty
She shuffles in, aproned, with stockings rolled down like ankle doughnuts
To sit in her favourite place beside the good light
Where threads lie ready.
Grasping needle and white strands, calloused fingers
Guide to form designs.
Stacks of cross-stitched patches grow and wait.
No patterns to follow, she deftly weaves the needle's course.
Eyes, deeply wrinkled, still bright
Smile at filament motif - ideas tried and true.
Cobalt blue today, white tracks move along
Till all corners join together as one.
The quilt is ready. Soon to grace a
Only the warmth a Grandmother can bring.
Mine an expert maker of love blankets.