“For winter nights I want a woolen hat!

My true love said - “I want it crocheted”

Use up the thick and dark green worsted wool

To match my jacket, for it’s getting cool”.



And so I crocheted, - crochet goes quick;

But first things first,- the hat had to be chic

And pert, and thus I picked the finest hook

While Stephen read from a computer book;

“For Dummies” and some sundry high tech stuff

Until I said: “You studied long enough!

Give it a rest for now and watch TV”!

Which he turned on, somewhat reluctantly.

“The wool is thick he said,- you crochet fast

I reckon that this sturdy hat will last

For many years to come and I am glad

You did not knit - for I prefer crochet..

In a short time his cocky hat was done,

And night and day my sweetheart had it on.

.

One night I came home late, for I had had

A choir rehearsal, - and he was in bed.

My hand groped for his head and I stooped low,

To plant a kiss upon my sweethearts brow.

But Lo! - the head felt oddly corpulent,

A bloated pear, - and in bewilderment

I touched and felt and fumbled round about,

And toweling and tissue wads rolled out,

But in the darkness I could clearly hear

A playful chuckle from the bed room’s rear :

Fear not!- no burglar here nor Peeping Tom

Steve‘s in his housecoat, he is home! he‘s home!..



But now he’s gone, he’s gone -, his woolen hat

Lies flat and limp upon the stripped down bed;

I hold it to my cheek in disbelief,

Then press it to my heart and weep and grieve;.

His odor lingers, clinging to it yet,

Of thriving hair roots, essences and sweat;

It penetrated deeply strands and mesh,

And brings the vision up of cherished flesh;

I plant upon this hat a tender kiss

Lord usher him into your joy and bliss!