My Grandma Taught Me How to Knit

My grandma taught me how to knit –

before her rocker I would sit

to watch her make a pair of mitts.

*

One day I asked if I could try

and with a soft contented sigh

she picked me up and asked me why.

*

I said I liked the way she knew

just when to change to red or blue

and how to move her needles, too.

*

She laughed and set me on my feet –

my brand new needles, I would meet.

Oh, how I thought they were so neat!

*

I tried and tried to no avail.

Oh, how I hoped I would not wail,

but she’d not let me ever fail.

*

Some time had passed; I’d tried again…

for this time I had just turned ten

and just as set I’d ever been.

*

Her guiding hands worked mine in hers

until my fingers were all blurs

and didn’t need their strong chauffeurs.

*

I practiced ev’ry day I could

and someday soon I knew I would

know all the things she understood –

*

For life is like the thinnest yarn:

it sometimes needs some thread to darn,

but used just right it can go far.

*

We weaved the loops through more the same

till none will ever claim their fame,

but worked together they became...

*

the fabric we could always use

for blankets warm we use to snooze…

for so much more and all we choose.

*

I taught my grandkids how to knit –

before my rocker they would sit

to watch me make a pair of mitts.