Rag Doll: Stitches

Neat stitches on the doll's body barely showed
These stitches her patient mother bestowed
Years the mother labored under dying light
Stitching the seams with her fading sight
Always plying with cautious deft fingers
Such that her essence in her daughter lingers

Crooked stitches cover the pastel dress
The product of her friends' lack of finesse
With the softest touch the trims were added
And the lean places they found they padded
The dress is sturdy if not quite sleek
The myriad of patterns makes her unique

Her pale blouse is littered by ugly marks
Left by those she loved as they part
Colorful additions they always are
Yet her simple innocence they do mar
Perhaps their youth made them rash
But on her chest lies their gifts that clash

There are more stitches in hidden places
Look closely under those pretty laces
They were hurried work by her own hand
To close the fatal wounds as only she can
Trembling in pain her needle dug too deep
And left all those uneven pleats

Many stitches are yet to be made
By those who would come to her aid
Someone to remove those ugly stitches
Someone to undo her hurried patches
Someone to mend her with tender hands
Perhaps you would see a pretty child then

Revised on July 29, 2004.