Ode to a Knitted Sock

Shakespeare it's not.

 

I think that I shall never see

A sock more beautiful than thee

With traveling lace and demure grace

Knitting is a fiber ballet, you see.

 

With circular needles and Rowan wool

Tiny stitches danced a spirited reel

From the rib to the toe, they put on a show

Creating pulchritude surpassing a jewel

 

Though sublime, the sock is all but alone

“I am single,” she cries with a sob and a moan

Sadly she must wait while her creator knits a mate

Warding off second sock syndrome and its fate.

Comments

[TigereyeSal]

Beautiful sock! Love the new look of the blog, too, but the weather pixie doesn't show properly for me. And hey, that's Wordsworth you're channelling, not Shakespeare.

Keep it up girl- I hear such determination in your writing to keep things afloat and moving forward, and that's a good thing, Martha!

Hugs,

Sally

[Nancy K.]

pulchritude????

;-)

[Michelle]

Oh great, now I have to add "poet" to your long list of artistic accomplishments?!?

I'm hoping to get a lot of relaxing knitting done (that would NOT be socks) while traveling to, from and in Mexico; I'll wave when I fly over!

[Suzanne V. (Yarnhog)]

I laughed out loud at the poem! Very funny. And it's a beautiful sock. Best get to work on the second :)

[Jacqueline]

Love the ode. Beautiful sock. Best cure for SSS? CO immediately after kitchenering.