Crochet Poem

[terisilv]

My grandmother crocheted intricate filet doilies, antimacassars, pillowcases, afghans, and chair arm covers, and her whole house was filled with her crochet work. I found the following poem that reminded me so much of her. When she took her doilies off to wash and starch (remember shaping the ruffles with pop bottles?) she would be embarassed if people came over "when her doilies were off!" I don't know the author, but it made me cry.

 

My grandma's doilies lay

 

like so many snowflakes on the furniture

 

crisp and sparkling.

 

 

tiny intertwining loops

 

worked by rough fingers after

 

the dishes were washed.

 

strategically placed

 

on the worn upholstery

 

covering memories of my father's childhood.

 

 

And when I would visit, wandering through each room, inspecting, checking, reassuring myself,

 

they were always there waiting.

 

Everything in its place.

 

Predictable, Functional, solid

 

with lacy white coverings

 

no two alike.

 

 

And grandma would be there predictable,

 

Solid, with her ever-present apron.

 

Simple, functional and as I stretched my arms wide for a hug,

 

the familiar scent of Avon.

 

[carrieanne]

Oh, what a great poem. Thanks for sharing...it reminds me of my Grandma, too. She died when I was 12, and crocheted. I have tears......

[dixieredhead]

That was so beautiful! I saved a copy of it. My granny is still here:D She is 79 yrs old. She still crochets. We crocheted together just this week. Thank you for such a beautiful poem. I am going to give her a copy. It brought tears to my eyes too!

[diamond]

What a beautiful poem. Thanx for sharing it with us!

[mamaoso]

Great poem

[NurseFrawg]

Thanks for sharing.. very nice poem. I thought of my Granma.

Elizabeth