I keep looking for that closet
where
all the strands
of my life
are wound into neat balls,
waiting to be knit–
tidy patterns on shelves
and yellow and green skeins
and every assorted thing
crochet hooks,
and needles in a cushion
and pinned decisions
laid out as neat as
freshly-fallen snow angels
wearing home-made sweaters…
only to find
the door ajar,
buttons askance
and cross eyed tomcats
laying drunkenly next to a pair of hockey sticks
misplaced in a field of catnip
Darn it!
Where are my socks?
Somewhere, I suppose,
behind rose-painted thimbles
which hold enough lace and grace and strawberry wine
to sew me
a picnic in summertime
πππβΊοΈβΊοΈβ€οΈπππ
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Thanks Roland π
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this is great. I love the imagery. xxx
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:).. so good to hear.. thanks:)
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Reblogged this on knitting with heart and commented:
Ahhh yes…
gotta β€ this cleverly crafted poem
by Kae @ Buckets on a Barefoot Beach
It reflects the story of my life… LoL π π π Jackie
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Oh how fun:).. thanks so much π
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My pleasure, Kae… can’t help but β€ this crafty poem! π π Jackie@KWH
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π
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Reblogged this on idahodimple.
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:)… thanks so much:)
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This is a clever and delightful piece. Love it!
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Thanks so much Eugenia:)
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