Tuesday, April 10, 2012
An Ode to the Dishcloth
Warm days, Summer breeze,
Wait, did the weatherman just say freeze?
I dream of spring, of little lambs,
Fiber festivals, and knitted ballbands.
To bring on the warm weather I go
To the stash that I love so
Dishcloth, oh wonder that you are,
I know that Summer is not too far.
For when I choose to work on you,
My days go from gray to blue.
There is a turning in the season
Which I know without reason
Is brought on by my cotton, so true.
In shades of cream and bright blue.