THE KNITTING GRANNY

Granny sits on the kitchen chair,

and knits a strange,

long garment,

with wild colours

in scratchy wool.

Her long needles flash

in the afternoon sun,

up and down

at the speed of light,

dropping stitches as she goes.

I half-dread the finish line,

when she’ll say, ‘there now,

that’s done, try it on’.

And she’ll hold up

a multi-coloured monster.

One long sleeve

and one  too short,

tight under the oxters

and baggy at the bottom,

and her beaming with pride.

And as usual I’ll try it on,

and say ‘ach, Granny, it’s lovely,

you made a great job.

I’ll wear it out on Sunday’

And as usual I’ll lie.

I’ll wear it out on Sunday

as far as the car,

then a quick change,

sure you couldn’t be

caught dead in it.

But you wouldn’t tell

your Granny that,

not when she knitted you

a jumper with 6 balls

of wool – and plenty of love.

©Roisin Duffy

TITLE: THE KNITTING

GRANNY

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