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CROSS STICH HORRORS
A poem by K. D. Abbott
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
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
You know you are cross stitch mad when.....
You have crossed stitched through ‘Coronation Street’ so many times, you wonder if Hilda Ogden still has those ducks on her wall!
You know you are cross stitch mad when.....
You hear people talking about the fabric of the Universe and you wonder if it is Aida or evenweave?
You know you are cross stitch mad when.....
You don’t buy name tags to sew into your children’s clothes, you cross stitch their names in!
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