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By NedWilson
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21 March 2008 |
Six months it took
Stitch by stitch.
Row by row
Through long periods of illness
Through times when
She hardly knew
Where she was,
What she was doing
Or why;
And her twisted, painful fingers,
That barely moved.
In her last days
Arrived the jersey she'd promised me.
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Written by mr_soul (126 comments posted) 21st March 2008 | I liked this ned. Very thought provoking. The old woman, mother or grandmother i assume, suffering, in her final days, still determined to stick to her promise of knitting the jersey. A trivial act to some, but it shows the depth of love a woman has for her child/grandchild.
Well written poem, and a very suitable title |
Written by gutterkitty (362 comments posted) 21st March 2008 | | A touching premise but I feel it could have been delivered with a bit more originality- the section "hardly knew/Where she was,/What she was doing" etc. is the kind of writing that has been used so much it fails to have as much impact as a subject such as this should have. Definitely worth working on though. |
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