Our Grandma’s life
Was like a quilt
That time and love
And family built.
Squares added in her years
Growing up in the South
Hours spent shelling peas
On the porch of the old house
Tales of her home
Cotton picking with her brothers
There was always a memory to hear
At the feet of our grandmother
As years and seasons changed
The quilt grew with time
As babies and grandkids
Each added their lines.
Memories woven in
Of summers on the lake
Homemade berry cobbler
And casseroles baked
This quilt is now finished
The work is complete
The seamstress awaiting
The Call from her sleep.
By Kristen Harmon and Jennifer Twomley
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