Poetry: Autumn Quilt

patches orange, patches red
bound together with the thread
that stitches tales of starry nights
filled with warm fires and ghostly frights
the shrieks of children all delighted
dressed in gowns and masks, invited
to troll the the streets for scrumptious treats
and stuff themselves with moon-shaped sweets
but in the morning, their laughs of joy
are shoved in trunks with disused toys
to be forgotten until next year
except within these patches here
this fabric filled with gasps of time
a hushed anticipated rhyme
created by the careful patterns
that depict all the things that matter
and hold them near to sleeping hearts
as winter’s dance stills autumn’s arts

[ Posted to dVerse Poets Open Link Night ]

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Nitin LalitKerfeLaura BloomsburyDwight L. RothArcadia Maria Recent comment authors

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Bjorn Rudberg
Bjorn Rudberg

That quilt has so much stitched into the patterns… what a wonderful thought that it also hold those Halloween thoughts


Clara, delighted to have you post here BUT, please add a tag to dVerse
or an acknowledgement with the dVerse link at the end of your post.

This insures others can find our site and also increases your readership.

Glenn Buttkus

Tis true, most of our experiences become only memories; this process happens a trillion times a day–but a quilt, a poem, a piece of handmade furniture, even a garden, represents something more substantial, and tangible.

Ken Gierke

I’ve often thought of hand-stitched quilts as containing memories, and you’ve captured that.

Frank Hubeny

Very nice sound.


I chose a poem of mine about a quilt too. So many memories are stitched into the quilts from days gone by! Loved your eloquent write!

Gayle Rose
Gayle Rose

What a delightful poem! I’ve always loved hand-made quilts and the many memories stored within the stitches. They do have a story to tell as does yours.
Gayle ~

Arcadia Maria

Great poem. Thanks for sharing. 🙂

Dwight L. Roth

This is a beautiful piece and the quilt a work of art. Quilting is writing poetry with thread instead of ink!

Laura Bloomsbury

Beautiful fall colours in the quilt – ” fabric filled with gasps of time” – my favourite line


Quilts hold the stories of life.

Nitin Lalit

The patchwork to me represents a collective existence, in which all our stories our woven. Perhaps one can call it fate. Joy and strife enter and exit each of our lives but what’s predetermined for humanity as a whole will remain unchanged. Correct me if I’m wrong though. Great poem.