Knitting (Poetry)

My poems start like jumpers —
the words I tend to knit
repeat their patterns — stretching wide
most turn out multi-fit.

A few stay prim and proper —
no stitches dropped or made
the sleeves hang free of random holes
the yarns don’t knot or fade.

But one or two grow bold and bright —
ignoring fashion’s crowd
unique design that’s all their own —
a statement brave and loud.