She stitched the rough cloth
In fine careful sturdy rows,
Stronger than the cloth,
Longer than should have taken
Her hands weak, were not shaken.

She Sang so quietly

“I will sew for you,
It’s what I will do,
It’s a gift I give for you,
The best I can try to do.”

They took him in cloth
She could stitch no more for him,
He wore his last cloth. Sooner than he should be gone,

Her heart weak, she’d carry on.