You did your job and did it well,
And then I quite forgot.
I’d rolled you up and twisted you,
Then tied you in a knot.
I threw you in the bottom drawer,
Erased you from my mind.
While you lay there, I didn’t care,
How could I be so blind?
I should have taken half a breath,
And packed you up with care.
To see your holes and broken threads,
Is more than I can bear.
– ⋅ o ♥ o ⋅ –
I’d made you on that rainy day,
The sun refused to shine.
The needles clicking and a clacking,
My fingers chapped from twine.
In and out your threads were woven,
Your colour shining through.
To match the leaves and blooms of spring,
A warm true patterned hue.
Inch by inch your beauty shone,
Your inner self revealed.
Hour by hour I toiled away,
And dreamed you’d be my shield.
– ⋅ o ♥ o ⋅ –
Not knowing if my plan would work,
I’d sat to weave your heart.
I only knew you would take shape,
All I’d to do was start.
To wind your threads across the steel,
And loop them back and forth.
And at the end, you’d be by friend,
From that day then henceforth.
O friend, my warm and woolly wonder,
You I do adore.
Come here and let me fix you up,
The cold is at the door.
Very nice. Put a little smile on my dial 🙂
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Thank you Heid
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I got here seeking inspiration and… I’ll cut to the bottom line – these days I am toiling away, not knowing if it’d work (learning the elongated stitch).
So thanks for the encouragement and the fun ode 🙂
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Thank you, and just keep going 🙂
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This is lovely 🙂
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Thank you
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A very enjoyable ode to read.
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Thank you Macmsue
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Writing in a metrical pattern is similar to knitting, isn’t it?
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I wasn’t looking at it from that angle, but now you’ve mentioned it, I spent hours counting the syllables and keeping the (metrical) pattern perfect. 😊
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