Flying Fingers

Photo by Dominika Roseclay on Pexels.com

She pulled the thread through the eye of the needle and picked up the embroidery hoop.  She began stitching a pattern of flowers and butterflies.  Her fingers practically flew across the fabric.  She had great dexterity for a woman of her age.  But as the years were gaining ground, she had more concerns that arthritis would leave her hands unable to create the stitches she knew so well.

At a young age her Mom had taught her two basic stitches and she had picked up all the other stitches through the years with ease.  She had so many fond memories of embroidering things with her Mom.  Her favorite was a faded blue jean jacket they had nearly covered with designs; her favorite of which was a large owl on the back.

She had been asked many times why she didn’t sell her talents, but she always insisted if it was a job, it would not hold the same joy it did as a hobby.  So, she made all her gifts and even donated some pieces to the local shelter.  She loved to sit and stitch many hours in a day.  It kept her grounded and happy.


Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – dexterity

Look Away

His hands were rough

From a life of hard living

But there was something about them

I couldn’t look away.

His hands were strong

And keeping busy

They mesmerized me

So I couldn’t look away.

They were tanned

Wearing an onyx ring

No signs of a wedding band

And I couldn’t look away.

They showed a gentleness

And sense of purpose

With a slow deliberate way

But I couldn’t look away.

 

…if only he would touch me once

With hands that know passion

To quench this obsessive desire

Then maybe I could look away.

 

Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – touch