A Celtic Quilt

Draped across the bed is a Celtic quilt.

Its patches synchronized in canary yellow and Kelly green.

Every patch distinct, like the aerial view of farm country.

The children weave in and out after I hoist it over the line to dry in the noonday sun.

They giggle as it gently touches their smiling faces.

Draped across the bed is a Celtic quilt.

Its pattern resembling a flag pledging allegiance to our heritage.

Never forget your culture and where you come from.

I’m Canadian with Celtic roots, Irish, British and French.

I am proud.

Draped across the bed is a Celtic quilt.

It's warm and cozy as I curl up under it; Just 10 more minutes.

The soft cotton comforts me as its lines skew over my body.

The dog pokes her wet nose under to wake me.

Get up and feed me; you, lazybones.

Draped across the bed is a Celtic quilt.

It cheers me after a miserable day, each stitch a kiss sewn by hands who love me.

The bright circles and swirls of symmetrical fabric whimsically centred between linear boarders.

I collapse beneath it, wishing the day away.

I feel secure and relaxed now, ready to take on the world again tomorrow.

Draped across the bed is a Celtic quilt.

The guests will be here any minute. I smooth it out one more time to make sure it's taunt.

On display for all to share my pride and joy.

Perfectly quilted by 92-year-old hands; no machines, I boast.

It works, I'm the envy of all to possess such an amazing gift.