Friday, August 3, 2018

"Treasured"

















Treasured

My youngest still likes hugs and kisses,
not in public, but allowed behind closed doors.
Sometimes he forgets, holds my hand
as we walk sidewalk or street; almost brings me to tears.

Perhaps little boy sweetness lingers a bit longer,
as my girls flirted with independence
far too early.

Yet I've found a way to wrap myself around them -
carefully choose color and pattern,
piece and pin often past midnight,
prayerfully secure layers with flourishes of design ...

an heirloom perhaps, worn-out, treasured,
maybe bring tears to their eyes
knowing they are loved.

by Margaret Bednar, August 3, 2018

Linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads -Tuesday Platform"

7 comments:

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Aww gosh this is beautifully tender and emotive. The closing lines brought tears to my eyes.. 💞

Vicki said...

Beautiful quilt and heartfelt poem.

Anonymous said...

it is within the smallest moments, especially with children, when they are growing up too fast for a parent's comfort, naturally, striking their independence and sense of self in the world, - in the moments, when they slip back and "forget" the "stage" and are just content to connect, well, you've certainly captured this here Margaret, in a very touching and endearing way;

and yes, the line about stitching into the long hours, as a prayer, is really rather beautiful; hand stitched with love is something that endures through time, and all that life offers; and certainly, for the moments of comfort it brings now, and in years to come - something that is created with such love and care, will always be treasured, so much so for all the wear, thinner patches, but mostly for the love ...

lovely reflections and heart in this poem Margaret :)

tonispencer said...

This so reminds me of my mother's quilting. the hours she spend cutting and pinning and sewing. I have heard that a woman's daughters often become more independent, quickly and that her son(s) stay close forever. I have witnessed this with my husband. Don't say anything against Mom! A sweet poem in the best of ways.

Magaly Guerrero said...

I love the tenderness we start to feel from the first stanza. I smiled at the image of a growing boy wanting his independence, but loving mom too much not to hold hands when all that growing doesn't get in the way.

The closing is just precious.

Anmol (HA) said...

Oh, that is such a lovely relationship. The innocence of childhood is heartwarming. This is so beautifully penned: "carefully choose color and pattern,/piece and pin often past midnight,/prayerfully secure layers with flourishes of design".
-HA

Susie Clevenger said...

What a beautiful quilt and poem. It seems my girls speak more often about childhood memories these days.