The Patchwork Quilt

October 25, 2010
By Silverwindghost BRONZE, Jackson, Ohio
Silverwindghost BRONZE, Jackson, Ohio
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

My hands have sewn a patchwork quilt,
Each piece of fabric is beautiful,
Unique.
I join each piece with the needle--
--A pen---
Grasped between my fingers.
But my hands that bind
Then lose control,
The pieces join together,
With a will that's theirs, alone.
My hands may hold the pen that sews.
But their hands hold the strings.
And they're tied to mine.


The author's comments:
Originally, this poem came about through an assignment in my 11th grade Creative writing class. We were told to write a poem or short story pertaining to the many things hands are capable of. (Naturally this produced snickers and a variety of comments throughout the classroom) In the end, I set out to illustrate the magic of writing stories and bringing characters to life, comparing the process to sewing a quilt. "They" are the characters, who after a while begin to "sew" the story themselves, almost as though they were whispering it to you and pulling on your hands so that you write what they wish. Esentially, in any case of good storytelling, the writer becomes the written's malleable puppet. Never should it be the other way around.

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