I've been trying to knit Birch for Amazing Lace this summer. We've hit a bit of a roadblock though. I know my poetry is simply the most incredible and moving thing you've all ever read, but try to hold back the tears.
Ode to Birch
A white could of silk and mohair
Who knew it could be such a bear?
Such delicate fine thread
But, oh, how it does shed
Worked on in fits and starts
It's breaking its knitter's heart
Lifelines are for sissies, she declared.
Alas, now she's running scared.
Thou shalt not knit lace and chat.
She seemed to forget that.
A whole pattern repeat gone bad.
Has made her very sad.
So last week, she tried to tink
But it nearly drove her to the brink.
So frog away she did.
While her shame, she hid.
So now dear Birch has been started anew
Just how much more trouble can she brew?