Parodic Poetry

"Knitting lace on a sweltering evening,"

A parody by Jasmin

[Original by Robert Frost, 'Stopping by woods on a snowy evening'. He's rolling in his grave.]

Whose lace is this I think I know.
This lace is in the bag though;
I can not be seen stopping here
This shawl is bigger than a throw.
My little dogs do think it queer
To weep with the end so near
For granted speed and time I did take
The busiest season of the year
I give myself a wake-up shake
And wonder if I've made mistakes.
The only other sound's my weep
In noisy, snotty, teary wakes.
The lace is lovely, soft and chic.
But I have deadlines to keep,
And hours more to weep,
And miles to go before I sleep.