This Patchwork Quilt....

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A patchwork quilt.....

The lovely little squares....
Stitched meticulously....

A smile here....
And there a tear......

Cocooned in it's warmth....

Cuddled up she lay.....

A comforter like no other.....

Snuggled up together with her aloneness.....

And random memories visited her in night time dreams.....

She sowed up the dreams during the day.....

A floral patch of magenta and pink.....
Lay next to sky blue and black.....

Intricately woven....
So as to fill in the gaps.....

Her basket was replete with patches and strips.....

Remnants of a dress she'd sown for a friend's grandbaby.....
A washcloth for the kitchen.....
A jumpsuit for neighbour's son.....
A tablecloth....
A stole for when she went out.....

A cross-stich here....
A lazy-daisy there.....

She threw in the smocking bits.....
To add colour and verve.....

A garden with butterflies.....

A heartbreak....

Love's flutterbyes.....

A lover's kiss.....

And being flattened by a steamroller into smithereens.....

And it turned out quite stunningly pretty.....

Yet she couldn't sew the very self she saw in all of these memories.....

The cameraman was in every picture frame.....
Without being there.....

Cuddling babies.....

Empty lovers' arms.....

Gazing at starlight.....

Evaporating....incense smoke trails....

Uncapturable.....ungraspable....

The fragrance the only remembrance.....

And a burnt brunt of the ashes of a stick.....

She was the dewdrop.....

A birdsong....

A multihued rainbow poem.....

A centerless jewel.....
Reflecting the light.....

All lit up....

Inside out.....

Dancing in the rain.....

She was all made up....
Of this and that.....

This patchwork quilt.....

Her autobiography....