Sunday, December 7, 2014



Her life was full of movement
led by her husband's restlessness,
house to house, business to business.
Not a modern woman, all she did was follow.
She lived  up
vicariously through the lives of those she loved
seemingly content to sew her fate with tight stitches 
making patches for the holes in fabric of her dreams. 

She followed well, patterns drawn by expectations:
religion, marriage, motherhood - predesigned models
allowing little exploration.
Her sewing was intended only for survival.
But her designs were inspired by rebellion.
Her techniques transcended convention. 
She zigzagged where straight seams were routine,
refused to baste, allowed imperfections
in the face, hemmed cords with loose bindings.
All this hidden within imagination's wish.

She died from her heart, depression they called it,
but the real cause was suffocation. 
The trapped art in her lungs
could not breathe.

(for Poets United.)

 This was inspired by my mother-in-law.  She was an amazing seamstress.  I'm sure she would have been a successful creative fashion artist had circumstances been different. Unlike in the poem, she is still living.  She no loner remembers much of life.  She thinks the nursing home where she lives is her mother's house.           


  1. oh heck... how tough when there's no chance to make happen what is inside you... i wish she had had the chance to live her dreams and release the art within her

  2. Such sadness for the woman who had not a chance to sing her true song....I see my mother now lost as she struggles to make sense of her life still unclear.

  3. This is a very touching portrait, food for a novel or a movie. I like how you used the image of the patterns, Myrna.

  4. This is very clever, Myrna. I like how you wrote up/down -- sort of like a sewing machine stitch. I am glad that she had her designs to zig zag what otherwise seemed a rather controlled and conventional life. I think the stifled human being often finds a way to live outside a preconceived box, a way to express who they are....somehow.

  5. So very sad, so very beautiful, so very common...
    And how glad I am that your art cannot be constrained.

  6. This is a very sad story.. depression can be to be trapped by things you don't want to do.. to sew when the art want to pour out. To write fact when you want fiction.. to write prose when you long for poetry.

  7. What a sad, yet powerful, metaphor. You have relayed it so poignantly....the sewing of her own fate with tight stitches....the way that we are often accomplices in our own bondage. Wow. So much story here and so beautifully written.

  8. Myrna, a poignant write. She does sound very talented. My fave lines: "making patches for the holes in fabric of her dreams. " and so true, "The trapped art in her lungs could not breathe."

  9. One of my favorites of yours! Such wonderful metaphor and you explored it so well here

  10. WOW! It made me think of the play/story Trifles (Jury of her Peers) by Susan Glaspell where things like stitching are not a trifle., where the real tragedy is that no women got close enough to read the signs before it was too late.

  11. "The rapped art in her lungs could not breathe" needs to be expressed and set free..I liked the idea of the seamstress and life. A clever way to convey a message.

  12. oh my, what did i just read? this is thought-provoking and an issue that needs to be addressed carefully. such a powerful read.

  13. Obviously she was meant for lots of goodness of intentions but denied by fate! Great lines Myrna!


  14. It's interesting poem....I loved the weaving the seamstress terms in life meaningful acts 'making patches for the holes in fabric of her dreams.' Surprised the notes after poem...the artist spirit as she had left the just ill body exists in the nursing sad and true it is! ~ Glad to come to read you, Myrna. Thanks for stopping by and commenting! x

  15. then again she chose to suffer in creativity, i'll give her points pass a seven

    have a good week

    much love...

  16. a sad story, but a lovely and powerful write.
    well, most artists are rebels. :)

  17. the art trapped sad a close...and how sad she only lived her rebelion through her art....and never really seemed to live herself....

  18. Brilliant. Yes, lack of freedom does that to you. Depression as they call it. And people who cannot rebel in real life rebel through their art. What a wonderful and apt thought!

  19. What a brilliant tribute to such an amazing lady. Loved your poem.

    Greetings from London.

  20. If I'd stayed married that would've been me...suffocated. Thank you darling for your generous spirit. Love for 2015 <3