A Matter Of Preference Poem by Grace Diane Jessen
A Matter Of Preference
A MATTER OF PREFERENCE
Grandma did not like yellow.
She never wore a yellow dress nor
put a yellow flower on Grandpa's grave.
She let me choose the colors
of the quilt she pieced for me.
She liked the turquoise, pink, and black
I bought for blocks and borders,
approved the prints, a stripe,
some gingham scraps I found,
but, looking back, I think she struggled
sewing forty-eight large squares of
solid fabric, bright as ripe lemons,
between the smaller blocks
she crafted with such care.
She pushed her needle in and out,
stitched forty-eight half daisies
onto that bold hue.She only hinted
that her handiwork would have been
nicer in another color.I suspect her
heart bled more than her fingers did.
I still cherish that old quilt. It warms,
delights, and cheers me as it did
more than forty years ago, but now
I wonder why I chose that
yellow cloth to dominate my quilt.
Each May, on Grandma's grave
I place bouquets of pink
or lavender and white.
I love this poem! I think my favorite line is the part about her heart bleeding more than her fingers.
Yes. This matter of preference is the matter of presence.
It warms, delights, and cheers me as it did more than forty years ago, but now I wonder why I chose that yellow cloth to dominate my quilt. a really great poem. thank you for your wonderful thoughts. tony
A lovely poem. What a loving grandmother to make such a quilt in spite of not liking the color yellow! Many grandparents make similar sacrifices, even today, for their grandchildren, and some grandchildren do not even notice. Your grandmother can be proud of the way you have honored her in this poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 3:12:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This is a true poem about my grandmother and me. It was published in Panorama, Vol.29, page 84, in 2010.