Monday, March 05, 2018

a poem by Amaris



Spun bundles of sheep, 
speared with two short sticks,
tucked in a bag 
'til used again

In goes your hand, 
gently lifting the fiber and spears
Then short metal sticks 
softly go click

Woolen strands take a shape,
guided by the metal poles
Colours weave and twist,
forming a masterpiece

Soon the last row is finished,
The spears are removed,
and Voila! What appears?
Colourful socks spun by your very own hand