The Life of a Doiley

My life began one winter night,

When skilled hands worked by the warm firelight

with a beautiful color of a ball of twine,

and a strong hook so shiny and fine.

She sat so still and worked the hours away,

Anticipating what I would become someday.

She thought about family,

and said a prayer or two. And she thought
she might just give me away
when she finally got through.

Someone would keep me to decorate their home,
and as the years pass, to the flea market, I'll roam.

I'll sit and wait in a company of junk,

till a soft hand pulls me out of a trunk
Delighted with her treasure,

she will put me on display,

Wondering about the one who made me

and why she gave me away.

My life began as a circle,

And once again to a flea market I'll roam,

till someone finds me once again,

And displays me in their home.