Oh wondrous shawl, oh gentle gossamer one,
Thou, as I knit from delicate wool
Grow, and catch light from the sun.
Pink and rose and deeper rose,
Subtle hues shimmer in thine depths
A wondrous flowerbed in repose.
Silent and still is the ball of wool,
As one lying fallow, quiet, until
Worked into glorious life by my needle’s pull.
Stitches float off needles and twist,
Lace forms and opens up before my eyes
A fairy wing emerging from the mist.
Gentle lace, thou art a living thing,
Your growth and spirit makes my heart sing!
“Don’t quit your day job.”