Mum’s favorite color was green. Knowing things like that makes connections easier somehow. I love blue, always have, always will I am sure, be someone whose favorite color is blue. But the green thing is seeping in around the edges. When we moved to this current home, left behind were some things from the previous owner. One was a ridiculously soft two-color quilt, green and white. It is store bought, not handmade. I am a quilter, and this is really not even a quilt. It is more like a couple pieces of fabric sandwiched together and quilted on a machine. Maybe it was sold at most of the Zayre stores back along.
Most of us know at least one child that gravitated towards something that seemed unlikely to be the chosen thing. Perhaps it was a stuffed animal, or a blanket, or something else soft. Maybe it becomes their thing that they must have around them most or all of the time. One granddaughter has a rabbit she aptly named Bunny when she learned to talk. Bunny is beautifully velveteen now, 17 years later. Still treasured and respected in the family, it would be totally wrong for someone to put Bunny away where he couldn’t be found easily. Knowing this is necessary to understand why I named the old green quilt Bunny.
On one long camping road trip my dear well meaning husband decided that the old green quilt didn’t need to be in the way but rather could be stored in a bin under the seat of the van. I couldn’t sleep that night without it! I was rather astounded to realize that this quilt had helped me fully understand the meaning of having a security blanket!
Have you every heard of the poetry form called Pantoun? Sometimes it is spelled Pantoum. I will put a link in here to one of my favorite poets and his post for how to create your very own pantoun. Essentially, in a specific numbered order you respond to various prompts, and then rearrange these lines to create an incredibly meaningful poem.
The Old Green Quilt
She came to me with the old house
She travels with me wherever I go
Folks say she is warm and soft
She soothes the tight pull of wounds and scars.
She travels with me wherever I go
In flowing greens of summer she is clothed
She soothes the tight pull of wounds and scars.
Unremarkable, she beckons with her soft, sure ways.
In flowing greens of summer she is clothed.
Far away, for a time she went missing.
Unremarkable, she beckons with her soft, sure ways.
She wraps around me as a mother’s arms.
Far away, for a time she went missing.
Folks say she is warm and soft.
She wraps around me as a mother’s arms.
She came to me with the old house.
Here is the link to crafting your very own poem. I have since used this to write a few more. It is truly amazing how meaningful it can be. I wish I could write a few with Mum.
Enjoy!
Good Morning Mum 