Beneath the clouds, in yarn so blue,
A quiet pool holds visions true.
Its waters swirl in woolen waves,
Where secrets sleep and softness saves.
An eye half sky, half flame and thread
Awake, though dreams have softly spread.
It watches life with knitted grace,
Reflecting thoughts we dare not face.
The clouds, like cotton, float in time,
Each one a verse, a silent rhyme.
A figure leans, unsure, amazed,
By stitched illusion softly glazed.
This pool does not reflect the sun,
But memories, when day is done.
And as you gaze, you too might find
A woven mirror of the mind.
Made with love and wools
