My needle story.

I sat nervously, fiddling with a needle.

Dwelling on matters that have essence beyond all this fiddle.

Pondering no sword can play wheedle with a needle. 

Since It's the only machine with a treadle.  

I sew my ballroom dress under a candle. 

Boring a hole between with a wimble. 

Sewing the hemline with thread and needle.

Holding the seam together despite all the struggle.

Keeping my finger's on the material.

Spinning it's handle with trouble. 

I realize it's time to replace the needle.

As I sit throughout night sewing with thread and needle. 

I could hear the morning roosters crowing. 

Pricking up my ears to my cows braying. 

Along with my restless beagle too baying. 

With that heavenly scent of freshly baked bagel. 

Licking my toes in company of my feet here yawns my beagle. 

With Floppy flapping ears and sagging jaws my naughty beagle.

I sat with my scissors and thimble. 

Adjusting the wimples crinkle. 

Absentminded while sewing I smell the bagel. 

Inadvertently get pricked by the needle. 

And In agony I hit the table. 

 Making my skin red and painful.

Reminded me of the bush the holly! the holly! covered in prickle.

Promptly the humble needle blossoms into a deadly needle. 

Slender and small in appearance this needle.

It pricks and sews too that is why it's a needle. 

Some lessons i learnt from the humble needle.

It is piddling and like a mound of Haystack with a Needle.

Insignificant by looks but deceptively valuable is this needle. 

Second to none with unmatched semblance like a nettle.

But then that is why it's called a needle.