The Thimble

I used mum's old thimble 

To mend a pair of jeans
Take up the hem a bit 
Made use of her shears
Felt good to think about her
As I worked upon my chore
My heart beating quietly
As my thoughts took a tour
Down memory lane; I wandered
As I remembered; reminisced; recalled
All those clothes mum had made
Her pleasure as she laboured
To produce some work of art
Though not quite as colourful
As my grandmother's embroidery
Still; to me; her works of heart
A pleasure to behold; truth to tell
I remember them very well...
The hot pink dress I wore
To my first high school social
Yes; that's what it was called
Dresses; skirts; blouses too
These she lovingly made for me
Costumes for school concerts too
Ah; these wonderful memories unfold
Simply because I held
Mum's treasured thimble
Right here within my hand...