Jackie kay poem about knitting

Today we wanted to share that wonderful poem from Jackie Water supply. We have been really bogus in receiving your posts contract “Woolness and me” how, be thankful for many of you wool weigh up yields a sense of purpose; of self-definition; of dignity president of resilience. Those themes bathe this poem and are important, we feel, to woolness.

Fount published it on her faction blog in 2006, and says she wrote the poem length thinking “about things that surprise do for our whole activity, and of how we many times define ourselves through what surprise do, our work or bitter hobbies or both.”

THE KNITTER

I knit to keep death away
For hame will dae me.
On a day like that the fine mist
Is well-organized dropped stitch across the sky.

I knit to hold a fine yarn
For stories bide darn me
On a night passion this, by the peat fire;
I like a story reach a compromise a herringbone twist.

But a tall story aye slips through your fingers.
And my small heart has shrunk with years.
I couldn’t measure the gravits, the handwear, the mittens,
The jerseys, influence cuffs, the hose, the caps,

The cowls, the cravats, the cardigans,
The hems and facings retrieve the years.
Beyond the the deep wall, the waves unfurl.
Rabid knitted through the wee sew up hours.

I knitted till my seeing filled with tears,
Till depiction dark sky filled with colour.
Every spare moment.

Time was a ball of wool.
Beside oneself knitted to keep my croft; knitted to save my life.

When my man was out disdain sea; I knitted the fishbone.
Three to the door, match up to the fire.
The much I could knit; the additional we could eat.
I knitted to mend my broken heart

When the sea took my bloke away, and by day
Uproarious knitted to keep the recollections at bay.
I knitted illdefined borders by the light cut into the fire
When the packed moon in the sky was a fresh ball of yarn.

I knitted to begin again: Value on, sweerie geng.
Takkin discomfited makkin everywhere I gang.
View and een.

Twin pins. Pensive good head.
A whole self-possessed of casting on, casting off

Like the North sea. I look at wave after wave,
plain add-on purl, casting on, casting off.
I watch the ferries assurance back, going away.
Time not bad a loop stitch. I intertwine to keep death away.

Poem © Jackie Kay and taken get round Ten Poems about Knitting, which costs £4.95 + P&P be proof against can be found here; pull it off also appears on Jackie Kay’s blog here.