THE DRAB LITTLE LADY
by: Hyde Buxton Merrick
- HERE is
an old lady, quiet and gray,
- Clad in drab calico, rocking away,
- Who sits inside of me!
-
- With needle and thread as she rocks to and fro,
- Her greatest delight is to silently sew
- On the patchy quilt of me!
-
- Triangles, oblongs, yellows and reds,
- Rosettes snowy white, with pink at the edge,
- She fits in the quilt of me.
-
- Astonishing polygons, every queer hue
- She puts in worn places to make them all new,
- To make a new quilt of me!
-
- So patient and tireless, day after day,
- Sitting and patching, I can oft' hear her say:
- "Here's a new quilt of thee!"
-
- But cutting she does with her shears, silver-bright.
- She stops in her rocking and flashes her light
- Down through the quilt of me!
-
- Taking the orange and purple and green
- Away on the blade, for they shouldn't be seen--
- Patches I made for me!
-
- So this little lady, quiet and gray,
- Sits endlessly matching and patching away,
- On the crumpled quilt of me!
"The Drab Little Lady"
is reprinted from Poet Lore, Volume XXVII, Summer 1916,
Number III. |
MORE POEMS BY HYDE BUXTON MERRICK |
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