I rivel, I ravel, my needles go click.

Pieces of cloth, thread, a needle, puffs of cotton,

Cushions and pillows for little heads.

I rivel, I ravel, my needles go click.

I must have been three.

A red wool frock, yellow daisies bright,

sit well on the little girl with strawberry blonde hair.

I rivel, I ravel, my needles go click.

I must have been eight.

A ball of thread, a shiny crochet hook, in a pocket of green,

pineapples dancing around in circles.

I rivel, I ravel, my needles go click.

I must have been twelve.

Bouquets of color, satin, stem, long and short,

springing across a white tablecloth.

I rivel, I ravel, my needles go click.

I must have been sixteen.

I rivel, I ravel, my needles go click.

I rivel, I ravel, my needles go clack.

My life lies ahead, for stitches to dance.