I'm a Quilter

 

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