MY QUILT
My neighbour is washing her windows
And scrubbing and washing her floors,
But my home is all topsy turvy
With dust behind all of the doors.
My neighbour she keeps her house spotless.
She goes round all day at a trot,
But no one would know in a fortnight
If she swept it today or did not.
The task I am at is enticing.
My neighbour is worn to a rag.
I am making a quilt out of pieces
I have stowed in a pretty chintz bag.
And the quilt I know my descendants
Will display with great pride in their heart
"So lovely. My Grandmother made it,"
An example of patience and art.
But will her grandchildren remember
Her struggle with dirt and decay?
They will not - they will wish she had made them
A Quilt like I'm making today.
from Liz in Melbourne, Oz,
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