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My Schmatta

Many years ago, my aunt, Who’s always loved to knit, Made a shawl for me with fringes – Not my color, I’ll admit. Yet it’s toasty warm and large enough To drape around and stay Without the need to hold it up; I wear it every day. A schmatta means a rag Or else a garment that is old But there is much affection For this shawl that I’ve extolled. See, my aunt’s made me replacements In the colors I prefer But they’re rarely worn because To my dear schmatta I defer.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 1/22/2022 8:28:00 PM
Schmatkies to wear; latkes to eat; Any time of year; both are great treats! Mazeltov! :) gw
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Date: 1/17/2022 10:56:00 AM
My mother-in-law was a knitter, and I must admit they make warm cloaks, but what happened to feet first? Enjoy your off-colour days! Aloha!
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Date: 1/17/2022 7:00:00 AM
- There are some things that can never be replaced ... lovely memory, Ilene :) - hugs // Anne-Lise :)
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Date: 1/16/2022 3:46:00 PM
A lovely poem, Ilene. Reminds me of a warm, knitted neck scarf I wear in the cold of winter.
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Date: 1/16/2022 1:51:00 PM
oh how wonderful reminds me of a comfort blanket and it can never be replaced with a new one:-) hugs Jan xx
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