HERE ARE SOME QUILT POEMS FOR YOU TO READ AND REMEMBER OF DAYS GONE BY! THE QUILT As I faced my Maker at the last Judgement, I knelt before the Lord along with the other souls. Before each of us laid our lives, like the squares of a quilt, in many piles. An Angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life. But, as my Angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in everyday life. I saw hardships that I had endured, which were the largest holes of all. I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened. My Angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air. Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose, each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My Angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise. My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness and death, and false accusations that took from me my world as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I had spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully; each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skn beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me. And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it had been. I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light. An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with eyes wide. Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image. The face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in His eyes. He said, "Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles. Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you. May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through. author unknown The Quilted Life By: Elaine B. Porter How like a patchwork quilt life seems--- Bits of reality, pieces of dreams. Fastened together, vivid and muted. Fabric and colors to each moment suited. Feathered stitches of friendship and love Hold fast through good times and bad. Those tiny, blessed stitches from above Keep us warm in good weather or bad, Give us reasons to be happy and glad. Granny’s Quilts by: Mildred L. Jarrell Little scraps of colored calico, All cut into squares, Then mixed and matched, And sewed in row on row; Reds and greens and polka dots, Striped squared and then plain, Little blue forgot-me-nots, And yellow daisy chain--- Tiny stitches laid so neat Held them all together, As Granny pieced and sewed her quilts, All during winter weather. Soon the frame was set up,  A joyous time for me, When neighbor lades visited, And sewed, then later stayed for tea. Each finished quilt she scented With petals she had dried, Now ready to give away With a note of love inside. Although the years have slipped away, I treasure the fond memory Of the dearest Granny ever And the quilts she made for me. The Friendship Quilt By: Rita B. Hollingworth It’s an old family keepsake, made long ago, A woman in those days had time to sew. She patiently pieced it, patch beside patch, With initials embroidered in colors to match, And it always intriques me, there on the bed, All hand-feathered-stitched with bright-colored-thread.  “This piece of white satin with initials of white, Was worn by your mother on her wedding night; This piece of velvet, so rich and so red, Was worn once by your grandma,” she said. A patch of blue taffeta Aunt Lou had worn; A bow from the bonnet Grace wore Easter morn; A scrap of gray necktie marked H.W.D. (He was the fellow who jilted Aunt Bea); Each set of initials an old memory brings Of joy or unhappy, personal things. Long bygone days filled with pleasure and woe Are traced in the friendship quilt made long ago.