Aunt Mattie's Quilt
Aunt Mattie bent a thousand times down the long black rows
Then battled with the angry weeds so little seeds could grow
Come summer Mattie pulled the snow from cruel and cutting bolls
She was patient pale and slender and was only eight years old
Round 'n round the spinning wheel beneath Aunt Mattie's boot
She recalled the soil and cotton seeds and summer's hopeful shoots
Two winters spun out summer's threads in rich and creamy folds
And she had a bolt of cotton cloth when she turned ten years old
If we bend and plant the seeds and tame the wicked weeds
If we let the sun and rain assist and simplify our needs
If we follow in the barefoot path of one persistent girl
We'll throw a healing quilt across an ever ailing world
Indigo and lavender made up Aunt Mattie's sky
Remembering her childhood days she made the rustic dye
The hour before the day would end it fed young Mattie's dream
She made indigo and lavender when she turned just fourteen
If we bend and plant the seeds and tame the wicked weeds
If we let the sun and rain assist and simplify our needs
If we follow in the barefoot path of one persistent girl
We'll throw a healing quilt across an ever ailing world
Aunt Mattie bends a thousand times down each patchwork row
Piece by piece and stitch by stitch in fading candle glow
The valley of the shadow cannot call her from her seams
Until finishing her lifetime's work she dies at seventeen
If we bend and plant the seeds and tame the wicked weeds
If we let the sun and rain assist and simplify our needs
If we follow in the barefoot path of one persistent girl
We'll throw a healing quilt across an ever ailing world
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Minnie And Mattie
Minnie and Mattie
And fat little May,
Out in the country,
Spending a day.
Such a bright day,
With the sun glowing,
And the trees half in leaf,
And the grass growing.
Pinky white pigling
Squeals through his snout,
Woolly white lambkin
Frisks all about.
Cluck! cluck! the nursing hen
Summons her folk, -
Ducklings all downy soft
Yellow as yolk.
Cluck! cluck! the mother hen
Summons her chickens
To peck the dainty bits
Found in her pickings.
Minnie and Mattie
And May carry posies,
Half of sweet violets,
Half of primroses.
Give the sun time enough,
Glowing and glowing,
He'll rouse the roses
And bring them blowing.
Don't wait for roses
Losing to-day,
O Minnie, Mattie,
And wise little May.
Violets and primroses
Blossom to-day
For Minnie and Mattie
And fat little May.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Used to be Hero
Patricia,
Do you know? Do you remember? Things from long ago? Do you know that you used to be my hero? The person I thought I could always talk to? Do you remember when I called you mom?
I wish this letter was addressed to her; the woman I called mom; my hero. I used to think about asking dad where did you go; then I realized he was never there. So instead I realized the appropriate question for him is 'where have you been'. It was my hero who left me. It is you I must ask 'where did you go'. You used to be my hero.
Once upon a time,
You lived in Newell; Dad lived in Nisland. Matt and I we were at your house for the night. Mattie slept in our bunk in the back room. I slept on the floor in the livingroom. To raised voices I awoke. Daddy was drunk and you were fighting. You told him to leave and he grabbed Mattie. He took him out to his truck and you locked him out. To the door I ran screaming for Mattie, scared for my little brother. Not caring for my safety. You locked the door and pulled me back. Daddy soon was at the door screaming and pounding at the door for you to let him get his stuff. You ignored his rants and raves and called the police. I watched from the door as they arrived and Daddy, he put up a fight. The cops asked once, they asked twice, soon he was on the ground and put in vice. On his wrists they slapped the cuffs and dear little mattie was brought back to us. In the back of the police car Daddy went.
The End
That night you were my hero. You kept Mattie and me safe from Daddy when he was drunk. I only have one question for you now. Where did that Mommy go? My hero.....the person who was supposed to teach me everything in life. Your life seemed to fall apart in front of my eyes, but I did not see your pain. Only the pain inflicted on Mattie and me. I wish you could still be my hero, but that was lost a long time ago.
.
poem by Cathy VanDorn
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Till The Land
till the land, till the land,
plant the seeds, pray for rain.
feed your cows and your pigs,
always stop to give thanks.
close to the earth, the seasons,
to your family, to your heart....
to your neighbors, to your friends, .
do your best, do your part.
till the land, till the land,
plant the seeds, pray for rain.
feed your cows and your chickens,
always stop to give thanks.
from generation to generation,
the traditions handed down.
take care of the land you work,
keep the wheel going 'round.
till the land, till the land,
plant the seeds, pray for rain.
feed your cows and your horses,
always stop to give thanks.
now the times have changed,
you're not needed anymore.
the bank's come to take away
all the things you've stood for.
till the land, till the land,
plant the seeds, pray for rain.
feed your cattle and your family,
always stop to give thanks.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Aunt Tabitha
THE YOUNG GIRL'S POEM
WHATEVER I do, and whatever I say,
Aunt Tabitha tells me that is n't the way;
When she was a girl (forty summers ago)
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so.
Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice!
But I like my own way, and I find it so nice
And besides, I forget half the things I am told;
But they all will come back to me--when I am old.
If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt,
He may chance to look in as I chance to look out;
She would never endure an impertinent stare,--
It is horrid, she says, and I must n't sit there.
A walk in the moonlight has pleasures, I own,
But it is n't quite safe to be walking alone;
So I take a lad's arm,--just for safety, you know,--
But Aunt Tabitha tells me they did n't do so.
How wicked we are, and how good they were then!
They kept at arm's length those detestable men;
What an era of virtue she lived in!--But stay--
Were the men all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day?
If the men were so wicked, I 'll ask my papa
How he dared to propose to my darling mamma;
Was he like the rest of them? Goodness! Who knows?
And what shall I say, if a wretch should propose?
I am thinking if Aunt knew so little of sin,
What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been!
And her grand-aunt--it scares me--how shockingly sad
That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad!
A martyr will save us, and nothing else can;
Let me perish--to rescue some wretched young man!
Though when to the altar a victim I go,
Aunt Tabitha 'll tell me she never did so.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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My Mother
My mother
is a stunner
She as beautiful
as a rainbow
I want to follow her
where ever she goes
I want to be like her
when I grow
plant seeds like her
reap and sow
make sure my offsprings follow
my path whether it is narrow
I love her so much
She makes me smile with a golden glow
My mother is my best friend
when I am feeling low
We say hello
a thousand times
when I am feeling low
She always knows
How to be straight with me
and say no
I say it once
I say it twice
My mother is a stunner
Now I have got to go
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Little Seeds
The little seeds that were planted
within our childhood spring
make us what we are today
and sometimes make our words sing.
The little seeds that germinated
as years passed and we grew
while in our youth they budded
before our experiences made them flower.
The little seeds of our childhood spring
that blossomed in our adult summer
to radiate even more brightly
in our autumn years.
poem by David Harris
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Plant the Seeds
We, who feel the awakening tme
approaching on its own
must try to plant the seeds of truth
for those who've never known
that time is of the essence.
The earth will no longer wait
for fools who fail to wake up
before it is too late.
The seeds that must be planted
must grow within your being.
They must make you understand that
understanding your power is freeing.
No longer will you be made to think
that this is all there is.
You are a multi-dimensional power
with the ability to become a wiz
at creating anything you want.
Too long you've been kept in fear.
Nowhere else in this universe
does fear exist, only when you're here.
So you must look within and listen
for everything that's in you.
So one by one the seeds we plant
will show you how you grew.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Garden
CHOKED with ill weeds my garden lay a-dying,
Hard was the ground, no bud had heart to blow,
Yet shone your smile there, with your soft breath sighing:
'Have patience, for some day the flowers will grow.'
Some weeds you killed, you made a plot and tilled it;
'My plot,' you said, 'rich harvest yet shall give,'
With sun-warmed seeds of hope your dear hands filled it,
With rain-soft tears of pity bade them live.
So, weak among the weeds that had withstood you,
One little pure white flower grew by-and-by;
You could not pluck my flower--alas! how should you?
You sowed the seed, but let the blossom die.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Reaping What You Sow
There's an open secret, one you must have known
In this world we live in we must reap what we've sown
And our deeds like little seeds which'll surely grow
To show the world like movie the seed that we sow
Many plant mangoes expecting apples to grow
Forgetting the law which says 'You reap what you sow'
A tale I'll tell you of a wise old fool
Who did all in his power to bend this little rule
He sowed so many evil seeds while alive
And saw them grow into evil trees before his last count of five
So learn from this story, be you friend or foe
In this world we live in we'll reap what we sow
poem by Olamilekan Adewoyin
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The Lord's Harvest of Plenty
What a truly awesome thought indeed,
That throughout your day you live among seed.
Not the seeds that one would find in the ground,
These are not seen, but in the heart they are found.
These seeds are planted by the children of God,
As they simply follow the path The Savior has trod.
Your life as a Christian is not merely good deeds,
As your faithful witness could plant one of these seeds.
Or your life may be busy with a seed you don't know,
And your faithful witness is helping that little seed grow.
Planting and watering, as a Christian, is all we afford,
While all of the growth of that seed comes from the Lord.
After a little growth it is no longer a seed,
But a new vibrant Christian prepared for a deed.
The deed that has been prepared, I'm sure that you know,
Is to plant some new seed and to help water and help grow.
Once they have grown, they are cut with God's sickle of love,
And taken by The Lord to their Father's Home up above.
Whether the numbers are few or they are many,
You can be part of The Lord's Harvest of Plenty.
(Copyright © 08/2002)
Garden Song
This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the john denver album, and has also been released on the voice of america and the country roads collection albums.
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
Till the rain comes tumblin down
Pullin weeds and pickin stones
Man is made of dreams and bones
Feel the need to grow my own
Cause the time is close at hand
Rainful rain, sun and rain
Find my way in natures chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music from the land
Plant your rows straight and long
Temper them with prayer and song
Mother earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
Old crow watchin hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden Im as free
As that feathered thief up there
Words and music by dave mellett
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even though the future seems far away, it is actually beginning right now.
quote by Mattie Stepanek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The way of life is not as easy as some people think... like me.
quote by Mattie Stepanek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunset is still my favorite color, and rainbow is second.
quote by Mattie Stepanek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sad things happen. They do. But we don't need to live sad forever.
quote by Mattie Stepanek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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While we are living in the present, we must celebrate life every day, knowing that we are becoming history with every work, every action, every deed.
quote by Mattie Stepanek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone To Seed
“If you plant honesty, you’ll reap trust”
Aye, the seeds of doubt have been planted,
But such doubts are a must,
If wisdom’s to be granted…..
Seeds of valor, seeds of passion,
Seeds of equanimity;
Seeds that suit every fashion,
Of learning and acuity.
Leaders who sow such seeds of doubt,
Are welcome and accounted,
Than those who’d love to flaunt,
Are ones that are so vaunted.
Where honesty is a truthful story,
Tests one’s heart and mind;
Now enough’s been said of this allegory,
Dear readers: this truth you can find!
Copyright © SC
10th July 2007
Mumbai.
poem by Subroto Chatterjee
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The Seeds Of War
When the seeds of war are sown,
hardly is it ever known
who has planted it
and what for?
Was it about
blood and gore?
When the seeds of war take root
it's hidden reasons make us mute.
Why was it planted
and by whom?
Was its purpose
doom and gloom?
When the seeds of war are grown
never is it ever shown
how it is planted
in men's mind?
How it's made them
all so blind.
When the seeds of war do thrive
many will not be alive.
They'll be planted
in false graves.
These seeds propel
how the world behaves.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Editing Same Path
I HAVE walked upon this path
alone
and that was years ago
when i still cry
water the pebbles with tears
they do not grow
flowers
there are no trees there
One day
I come down from the clouds
since i am heavy with
rain in my
heart and decide to
walk back the path
of stones
I have seeds of clouds in my pocket
rainbow shoots in my hands
The path have since then
bloomed with dew
and vapors rise to the skies
in prayers
Trees grow and
bees pollinate
a new world is born
since then
and children come and play
their games
again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Flowers Of Tomorrow
Forget unkind words and deeds
For life is a ground of weeds
Where you have to sow the seeds
Of happiness to get rid of weeds
With the weeds of pain and sorrow
And hope for the flowers for tomorrow
That will bloom evenin narrow
Path of joy to bring you tomorrow
A bright tomorrow where will shine
The sun of joy all for mine
That will spread the joy of wine
To bring joy to thee and mine.
Seema Chowdhury
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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