Aunt Eunice stitched tiny threads of gold, poetry
Aunt Eunice loved sewing keepsakes for her loved one's
Embroidering cotten pillowcases in beautiful golden sheen
Aunt Eunice stitched tiny threads as neat as her old Singer sewing machine
The yellow mums embraced the hunter green leaves nestled in a lovely bouquet spray
Tied with silk lavender ribbon, proudly put on display
Hands worn and twisted, joints swollen, agility waining
Her desire to stitch remains supreme, even though eyesight is sadly dimming
Her old rocking chair sets close to the crackling fireplace as she sews lovely gifts to share
She's marked each piece with names atop her keepsakes and signed with love and care
She knows she'll be remembered when her stitching ceases to be
The ones she loved so much, her wonderful earthly family.
More by this Author
My muse is constantly bugging me to take her south to lay in the sun on sandy beaches in Florida. Maybe I will. The election blues have got to go!
I was watching the sunset on a drab, gloomy day, missing my hummingbird's who had already flown South, and watching my squirrel, Squiggley store pecans for the winter when my muse took flight.
I've been somewhat afraid to travel due to the terrorist attacks throughout the world, but my psyche decided to speak up and make me rethink about living again.