OUR NEW RAG RUG
By Autumn
We were ready,
The big oak drawer
Full to the brim with clippings
Of old wool coats, moth eaten skirts,
Hopeless socks and torn cotton shirts,
All mixed up with that candy striped dress
Big enough to wear last Whitsuntide,
Too small now, washed out and cast aside.
Over Summer
We had been
Washing old potato sacks, giving them an iron,
Sewing them together with strong dark twine.
Pegging all the clippings in until every colour beamed.
We made circles, squares and one green diamond
Out of a worn coat sleeve.
Then pushing the big table with its red plush pompoms
to the door,
We laid our beautiful new rag rug down on the scrubbed
white wooden floor.
When everyone agreed, it was the loveliest rug our street
had ever seen.
©2021 Gwen Grant
Lovely!
LikeLike
This is another wonderfully evocative piece from you!! Really wonderful! 🙂
LikeLike
How beautiful 😊
LikeLike
So glad you like it. Josie. I love your posts. So interesting and so well told so, thanks for
them. When I wrote this poem, I could see it all as if I was still there!
Gwen.
LikeLike
Thank you so much, Susie. Glad you liked the poem.
Gwen.
LikeLiked by 2 people
So glad you liked the poem. Thank you very much for your kind comment. My book is
coming along slowly. And now I’m going to look at your wonderful posts!
Gwen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
love it
LikeLike
So glad. Thank you.
Gwen.
LikeLike
I’d be worried the fire might spit out an ember!
Nice lines, nice rug, nice stove, shut the door though!
LikeLike
Glad you liked the poem – even with a door open!
Gwen.
LikeLike