I'm warped and I'm twisted,
A true spinny broad,
Hair short of a micron,
A bit niddy nod.
I can't seem to stop,
All my spinning and roving.
My neighbours complain,
Of the woofing and warping.
A little short stapled,
I'm quite loosely crimped.
Though small varigations,
Have nubbed me and slipped.
I draw and I treadle,
And it's not surprising,
That adding a heddle,
Can leave me undressing.
Too late for me now,
I'm teasled and flicked,
My fastness is fading,
My selvedges slipped.
Don't mourn for my beating,
I'm leased and drawn down.
I'm just going to pedal,
My way out of town.
-Anna Williamson
A heartfelt thanks to the Nanton Weavers and Spinners Guild for all of their inspiration. I know you'll find this as funny as I do!
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