The inevitable fate of a knitting blog

The threads on Making Light are known to drift --
In that, it's just like any other place.
But they do more. They tangle, twist and lift,
Then knot and unknot, twine and interlace.
We spin threads out to unexpected length
And tug them sideways till they interact.
The intersections give the site its strength:
It stretches when it's stressed, but stays intact.
And if our needled comments don't create
Harmonious intarsial designs,
Our crotchets still keep threads from running straight,
Since we prefer to write with crooked lines.
When topics tangle, we rejoice. We'd whinge
If threads hung straight, since all we'd have is fringe.

Originally posted, astonishingly enough, on Making Light.

Another poet breaks cover

Assembled masses dance and shout "hooray".
The trumpets blare. The church bells start to chime,
As we delight in one more gift of rhyme.
Another writer coming out to play!
Like him, we doubt that our poetic voice
Is adequate to match the standards set
By those who came before. But let's forget
Our worries for the moment, and rejoice.
And as for content, I have drunk such tea
As Sandy has described, with powdered chalk,
(They called it milk. The lied.) So now I baulk
When someone offers office drinks to me.
May Sandy write the way he drinks his tea:
With courage, optimism, honesty.

Originally posted on Making Light.