A sunset in the oarchard

The peaches are plump and tree-sweetened

Duckling follow their mother

Down the swampy ditch bank.

Sitting there in the trees,

Needel and tread in hand

The crimson sphere dims as the city lights brighten

Just enough for me to see,

My needle work in hand.

A sunset in the oarchard

The leaves are amber now,

But the cold is far from stoping,

The kneedles in my hand

Insert, yarn over, knit one,

Insert, yarn over, knit two

A sunset in the oarchard,

Is far faster than it was,

On thoes cool summer nights,

I have to come at mid day now

Bundeled up on a bare branch

Looking out at the cristalized trees in a forest of ice,

Then let my hook, with my frosen fingers

Create products of my love

To thoes I love

A sunset in the oarchard

Man! It's now so wet

As pale green, sprouts from the slush and mud.

The flowers bloom

Like those on my quilt

That I am still quilting.

New branches have grown

That are sticking in my face

Surly mother wont mind

If I bend that one out of place?