Not Matching, Odds and Ends

I composed a cute little poem in my head while knitting this dishcloth.  Its made up from three balls of yarn--blue variegated, solid lime, green variegated.  The latter two were such small ends of yarn that they were not enough for a project on their own.  Put together they made something pretty and functional.  I liked that.  It set my mind to rhyming.

I ultimately wrote the poem down on a scrap of paper--we were at a fair vending tie-dye at the time and I didn't have my journal handy.  Matt, in an uncharacteristic I'm-going-to-organize-our-paperwork mood, cleaned out the papers after the show and I've never been able to find the poem since.

Its interesting because I compose a lot of poems in my head that I never bother to write down.  They are transient poetry, here and gone, just like, well, pretty much everything in this world.  Me, mountains, meadowlarks....  So, it strikes me as funny that one I actually bothered to set to paper has also ended up a transient piece of poetry, here and gone, just like that.

I suspect it was recycled.   So it goes.