Dolly sits a-quilting by her mother, stich by stitch,
Gracious, how my pulses throb, how my fingers itch,
While I note her dainty waist and her slender hand,
As she matches this and that, she stitches strand by strand.
And I long to tell her Life's a quilt and I'm a patch;
Love will do the stitching if she'll only be my match.
The Quilting
Paul Laurence Dunbar
(2)
Poem topics: life, mother, long, match, patch, gracious, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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