Forgive me gentle reader,
I don’t mean to sound terse,
But the gals at The Amazing Lace,
Require I write in Verse!
Knitting, sewing, drawing, painting;
From these I do not flinch,
But express myself with poetry?
I’d rather kiss the "Grinch"!
Still, I am one tough blogger,
From my fears I will not flee,
Instead I will regale you all,
With tales of Birch and me.
She sits there uncomplaining,
In my stuffy knitting bag,
As aloofly I cast on,
A sock or plain dish rag.
Her Kidsilk Haze is slippery,
Four types of needles I have tried,
I must regain my focus,
And Birch, regain her pride.
In these next few days I’m packing,
For a trip across the sea,
Will my lovely Birch be ready,
To fly away with me?
To Sweden we will travel,
The fledgling Birch and I,
Viking ships, and shopping trips
And tasty treats to try.
The trip will surely heal us,
All those hours in the sky,
To diligently knit her rows,
And caress that silky ply.
And so my friend, I leave you
To wonder as I do,
If Birch and I are meant to be,
Or I flush her down the loo. . .
