Threads

A Poem

Photo by bradford zak on Unsplash

Weaving hands, swift knitting fingers,

Pause in pattern deep to linger

And marvel at what may be found,

When into cloth thoughts do abound.

So mechanical, in many ways,

The weave and want of all the days.

So practical, creating needed items,

Yet the scope of our ingenuity almost frightens,

And something to marvel at too, it is true,

A reason to feel awe for me or you,

A reason to wonder on the skill of past years,

To admire those lost pioneers,

Who took in hand plants and in their heads

Thought up a way to create thread.

G. Lawrence.