Many people are thimbled-minded,
Yet when they need one, they canít find it.
It might seem dumb
But on my thumb
Is a Bandaid with tin behind it.

A soft cushion holds needles and pins,
Have it ready when sewing begins.
I have a dandy
That I keep handy.
Itís a stuffed lazy Susan that spins.

A sewing basket holds all my stuff,
Of buttons, there are never enough.
Itís one of my gripes,
That too many types
Makes finding the right match very tough.

Darning socks seems to be a lost art,
Despite how often they fall apart.
No one gives a darn
That they donít use yarn,
But cheap synthetics down at Wal-Mart.

Thereís this gadget that you sometimes use,
When the unwieldy thread does refuse
To work its way through
The needle for you,
Causing language no one can excuse.

I confess that I rarely do sew -
Itís simply not a craft that I know.
When I find a tear
In clothes that I wear,
In the rubbish will that item go.

By RickMack (


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Summer Storm

Dream Place

Rosebush On A Hill



Summer Life

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