The rhythm of the hook
as it moves the yarn around
Calls to me in whispers
a sweet familiar sound.
My hand moves almost dreamlike
without a thought or care
As I fashion something new
for someone cold to wear.
Perhaps a scarf or cap
Maybe a blanket too
With each and every stitch
I think of more to do
So when the cold winds blow
and when the snow falls down
My yarn helps me to remember
Forgotten people all around.
I am the one who’s blessed
As my warm hands stitch away
I pray the rhythm of my hook
Will help someone in some small way.
copy righted @ sandy June 2009
2008-2009
Hats 368
Mittens 66
Scarves 147
Socks 79 pair
*counts from day 1, Dec 2 2008