Seamstress Poem by Isadora Quagmire

Violet lays out her talent, skillful, precise and deep,
Into the folds of fabric, her hands eagerly leap.
Over the cloth, her nimble fingers expertly team,
Like graceful dancers, living out a tranquil dream.
Every movement, fluid, elegant, and light,
Transforming plainness into pure, visual delight.


Vibrant threads, like seeds, she carefully will sow,
Into the waiting canvas, where beauty starts to grow.
Opulent designs, with thoughtful, steady hand,
Like a master gardener, enriching barren land.
Every detail placed, with artistry and keenest eye,
Tending to her vision, making majestic hue arise.


Velvety soft gowns, or crisp shirts, finely made,
Intricate patterns, where light and shadow are played.
Often we marvel at the clothes she weaves with care,
Luxurious garments, or simple, everyday wear.
Each creation whispers of her patience, skill, and grace,
Truly these make a wardrobe of her love in every trace.