George and Maggie

NOTE: I based this poem on a true story related by Robert Fulghum in one of his books, which I highly recommend.

Old George was sent away to live
at Hill Brook Home one day,
and no one ever came to call
to brighten up his stay.

Now one day George just ceased to speak
and would not leave his room.
He sat and stared from rocking chair
in solitary gloom.

A woman, Maggie, also lived
at Hill Brook Home as well.
She had a lifetime of events
and many tales to tell.

She started on a quilt one day
to occupy her hands;
to keep her mind from straying to
Time's ever-shifting sands.

The days went by without event,
and George just sat and stared.
At first, it seemed like no one saw.
It seemed that no one cared,

but Maggie took an interest in
this solitary soul.
So, when he disappeared into
his grim and lonely hole,

she followed in to visit him.
He didn't seem to mind,
but neither did respond at all,
and Maggie still was kind.

She slowly moved her handiwork;
her squares and needles too;
into his room to tell her tales,
and every tale was new.

She had a milluion stories and
was glad that he would hear,
But none could fathom George's thoughts ---
No laughs and not a tear.

The window was his focus, true,
but what he saw we guessed.
At last the quilt was finished and
with beauty all were blessed.

They put the quilt up on display
and all who saw it praised
this most attractive hand-made quilt
upon which they had gazed.

The only quilt that Maggie made
was there for all to see ---
Except for George, for just that week,
his soul had been set free.

His nightstand held an envelope
marked, "Open When I Die."
The note inside read only this,
"Tell Maggie I love her."

And when they did, poor Maggie cried,
as though her heart would break,
for she had loved him from the first.
The quilt was for his sake.

Unspoken love that lasts and lasts;
A rose that never wilts!
And that's why George is buried now
all snug in Maggie's quilt.