It’s the Little Things
Khadhiyya Simany takes us into the story of how the mending of a special shirt can bring solace. Take a moment this evening to appreciate this engaging poem.
The blind stitch
My favourite shirt hanged with a sad tear
Unfortunately my tailor and I are locked apart
Not that i need to wear it now, soon I hoped
But it is my favourite shirt
The white lines on the blue material
Almost shadows the tear to the point of invisible
Still it sits there, questioning my sewing skills
I had no clue if I had needle or thread for this
So I took to task, a new assignment
I hear my mom laugh, encouraging it is
Dear Lord! The eye of the needle
This thread needs to loosen weight
Finally happy at my first victory
I poked the eye and the thread now sits
My hands unsure on the grip
Is it the bottom? middle or tip on the needle I hold
I did not want to ruin my shirt
Than no longer would it be my favourite
Now the stitch talks to me in alien language
Running, Catch, Whip, Blanket, Back and Slip
OH! All I needed was the blind stich
To which I was numb with uncordinated skills
The battle between me, the needle and my shirt
Made the war cry, this I cannot go wrong
The world on lock down ,that I cannot help
Yet this battle will play on my tunes
Happy with my amateur skills
My favourite shirt glorified and I beamed on my little win
Artist:
Khadhiyya . Simany
