I once had a thimble;
It covered my fingers and thumbs.
It belonged to my Grandma;
I filled it with sand and crumbs.
The thimble was bright and colorful,
A pitted cup, at one end a hole.
“You are my thimble,” she told me.
“From your head down to your sole.”
I loved my great Grandma;
I couldn’t really tell you how much.
And how she loved me in return;
We felt together this blessed touch.
She arrived once a week as expected,
Until she died when it came her turn.
Her smile lingered as though protected;
Her face always kindly and never stern.
“You are my thimble-bee,” she sang.
“My thimble-be-twee,
You make my heart happy,
You make me feel like me.”
She sat at her sewing,
Yes, she worked with her hands.
Her face appeared knowing;
Her eyes always glowing.
There was only one grandma,
That heaven sent down to me.
Nearby, she always had her thimble,
And that thimble be me.
it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a man to tell a good story and create characters that ring true. You did it naturally, John. and after all the proof of the grandma's pudding is in her children and grandchildren's eating. Cheers, alex
You sewed that one up beautifully. I had three grandmothers, but one was great. No doubt they sewed, but I never saw it. But I have used my mother's thimbles a time or two to push the needle through.
Wonderful memory of how your grandmother impressed you with her loving kindness.
Yes the thimble fascinated me as a child too when I watched my Grandma use one..The other thing was a little Lighthouse egg timer that my Dad used to show me, and we would watch the the sand falling through together...these little icons were closely entwined with that time in our history, and the people who used them...Like Eva says we can capture memories of a loved one this way...
A very individual and interesting poem...
Diana...
My mother always sewed with a thimble and cherished one her mother always used and passed on to her. What appears as something so trivial, turns out to be a symbol through which we capture memories of a loved one.
My book of poetry is being redone by me, I have a beautiful cover designed and the book will have a few more than 200 poems in it. I am going to have it printed on demand here in Canada. When it is done I will let you know when it is done and if anyo
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lovely lyrical work, I like this
hug
Kathy
Wonderful memory of how your grandmother impressed you with her loving kindness.
Ron
A very individual and interesting poem...
Diana...
"There was only one grandma,
That heaven sent down to me."
What happened to the other grandma? Was she of the clan like one of mine was who wasn't sociable at all?