A long and wooly journey

Baa, baa, white sheep has the softest wool

trots into the shearing pen unaware.

Snip, snip, the fleece is off

on its way to me.

Wash, wash, must get out the dirt and twigs

and other sheepy little things.

Comb, comb, set the fibers straight

untangled now and ready for the wheel.

Treadle, treadle, push the pedals,

round and round the wheel now turns.

Whirr, whirr, the fibers drawn out

in a line, so soft and white.

Spin, spin, twist it up to

make it strong and not too thin.

Dunk, dunk, in the pot of dye

to turn my white yarn berry red.

Hang, hang it up to dry and wait,

its journey is not over yet.

Knit, knit, round and round

and round some more to make a sweater

Warm, warm enough to block

the winter's chill.

Wrote this poem in English a few weeks ago, and just knew I had to post it.

Bloggers' Annual (Silent) Poetry Reading

I'm a day late, but here it is, a poem I wrote by moonlight one night when I couldn't sleep.


Ears buzzing with thought left to think,

restless mind

Can't sleep,

too bright

Milky moonlight through my window beckons

must get up, she is calling

Crack the blinds, moon-shadows cast on my floor

Tiptoe to the living room, bare windows for moon-watching

Low clouds rushing by, but where have they got to be at this hour?

They dance across the face of Mistress Moon, Mistress Moon...

Sleep well, she says

whispers, calms, Sleep well

All is right

Deep breaths, calming

Time to sleep

All is right