There was an old woman of long ago
Who went about her mending.
She sewed the wind against the clouds
To stop the trees from bending.
She stitched the sun to the highest hill
To hold the day from ending.
Her thimble and threads were close at hand
For needlework and quilting,
For sewing gardens to the sky
To keep the blooms from wilting,
For lacing the land to the crescent moon
To save the world from tilting.
rhyme and picture by Arnold Lobel