Not my bag

Last night, among my books and parchment,
Translating runes up in my room,
(I wonder what that funny arch meant?)
I glanced around within the gloom
And saw my knitting bag, all rumpled,
Dishevelled, stained and dirty, crumpled,
And this thought popped into my head:
“That thing is hanging by a thread!
I need a new one, that’s for certain.
But are there knitting bags for men?
Do they exist? Where are they?” Then,
Reflecting as I drew the curtain,
I thought perhaps an angel might
Assist in this, my latest plight.

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3 Responses to “Not my bag”

  1. The arch and what it surely meant,
    ‘Twas a symbol, like a rainbow, sent
    With promise of this angel’s grace –
    New bag to take the old one’s place.

    Keep watch, for an owl with heavy burden,
    Will one day pass through yonder curtain,
    In answer to your pitiful plea,
    Satchel tied to it’s weary knee.

    Manly, handsome, colours of Ravenclaw,
    A gift to strike you dumb with awe,
    Felted, roomy, filled with swag,
    A lovingly created knitting bag.

  2. Wow!!! How do you do it?? You must be a fountain of rhyming words. 🙂

  3. amazing! not only a bag laden owl but a rhyme to boot! too great. :0)

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