I found this in my files.
Sweet little purl loved a knit wit
Their romance was ripping to shreds
He embroidered a tale oft so crewel
Her poor heart was nothing but threads.
She tattled it all to her mother
Who said, “What a dunce, I perceive!
He’s raveled one yarn or another,
A web of deceit for to weave!
“I tole you and tole you, he’s crafty!
Rose Maling is more to this taste.
As a ship to sail off to the sunset
His canvas is really a waste!”
“I’m not what you think,” said Purl’s lover.
“Not all is just as it seams.
I may not always be perfect,
But Purl is the girl of my dreams.”
“He often leaves me in stitches,
I can count on him ‘cross the world wide.”
Purl did no hemming and hawing:
“I want this man by my side!”
He tucked her hand ‘neath his elbow;
He smiled as he doffed his felt hat.
He danced her around with much bobbin;
They darted away after that.
Her needle-nosed mother was outraged.
She scoffed at the liberties he took,
But love forged its chain ’round two lovers
And the knit witted man sweet Purl hooked.
She gauged her lover correctly–
This love was true to the end.
A needlework romance was crafted
And true love once more on the mend.
Bettilu Davies, 1990