As The Women Sew

As The Women Sew by Sue Gilmurray

When the times are hard and the going’s tough,
when you work all day and it’s not enough,
when there is no bread, and the children cry,
and the menfolk curse, and the women sigh,
then the women sew,
and their stitches speak
of a spirit strong
though the body’s weak;
with a grip on love
that they won’t let go,
see their fingers care
as the women sew.

When you live your life in the grip of fear
of the bomb and gun that are always near,
when they come at night to disturb your sleep,
when they take the men, and the women weep,
then the women sew,
and their stitches shout
against violent power
shutting justice out;
with a grip on rage
that they won’t let go,
see their fingers fight
as the women sew.

When you live aware of a bloodstained past,
when suspicions lurk, on which hatreds feed,
when the children doubt, and the women plead,
then the women sew,
and their stitches sing
of the fairer world
only peace can bring;
with a grip on hope
that they won’t let go,
see their fingers build
as the women sew.

Yes, the women sew, and their stitches hold,
and a fragile quilt is worth more than gold;
with a grip on life that they won’t let go,
see their fingers heal as the women sew.
Yes, the women sew,
and their stitches hold,
and a fragile quilt
is worth more than gold;
with a grip on life
that they won’t let go,
see their fingers care,
see their fingers fight,
see their fingers build,
see their fingers heal
as the women sew.

To see a quilted history of Mampujan, click here.