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The Checkered Quilt

The checkered quilt on Momma's bed

has drawin' power fer me.

I like the soft, warm feel of it

an' it's perty as can be.

I like how Momma folds it back

when it's time to go to bed;

I like it so much sometimes

I get an achin' in my head,

An' I have to pout a little bit

an' say I don't feel well.

Then Momma takes me in her arms–

(I think that's perty swell!)

She gets me snacks and reads to me

an' tries to make me smile,

An' then she tucks me in her bed,

"fer just a little while."

Well, then I feel all better,

tucked tightly 'neath that quilt;

All snuggled next to Momma,

I ferget how bad I felt.

The checkered quilt on Momma's bed

holds many memories.

Sometimes we put a sail on it

an' journey o're the seas.

We romp an' roll and toss about

as waves o'retake the ship

Til Momma comes in scowlin',

with her hands upon her hips.

She says, "What are you doing?!

You're messing up my bed!"

Then she jumps atop of us

an' bucks us with her head.

She tickles us both soundly

as we burrow 'neath the quilt.

This is the mostest funnest thing

I think I've ever felt.

It's more than just a quilt, you know–

the one on Momma's bed–

It's ships an' tents an' hide-aways

an' cures fer achin' heads.

It's love an' warmth an' tenderness

like Momma is herself­,

An' I'm so glad it's on the bed

an' not on some ol' shelf.

Fer quilts are made fer usin'

since they're made by mothers' hands;

They're not just made to look at

an' put on those ol' stands.

We hold so many marv'lous mem'ries

of the things we've played an' built,

That there'll never be another

like my momma's checkered quilt.

© Donna Arthur Downs

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