CROSS STITCH HORRORS
( For Bobbi in Florida )
| Today I joined a cross stitch class And though it may sound dumb Where once my fingers used to be I now possessed a thumb I couldn't thread the needle And this creates a 'hitch' For without a threaded needle You can't create a stitch The instructor had to thread it And though it sounds kind hearted She muttered lots of muffled words And hastily departed She showed us how to make a stitch And where we should begin But the first stitch ended painfully Beneath my tender skin Well, I've never been heroic And I believe one lady said The screams that issued from me Would surely wake the dead The class was in an uproar As they crammed to take a peek For my face was now a deathly white And my legs were feeling weak My finger was in tatters I tried hard not to cry But the gash looked like a canyon There was a good chance that I'd die The teacher yelled impatiently What she said I'll never know For I fainted in an instant When the blood began to flow The teacher phoned the ambulance For the wound was very deep But she said the blood-drenched patterns Could now be mine to keep As they placed me in the ambulance She let out such a shriek When I tried to reassure her That I'd be back next week K.D. Abbott © 2007 |
| NOTE: You are invited to make copies of any poem on this site for your personal and private use providing the details of copyright are included. The poems are not to be used for commercial purposes or displayed on any website. |
All poems and short stories on this site are protected and
Copyrighted to K. D Abbott 2007. © All rights reserved.
