Curled up on a hassock
Priscilla ties her thread.
She is making a sampler
Of orange and green and red.
The words are marked in cross-stitch
“Love everyone,” they say.
Her thread goes in, out, and in,
Priscilla works all day.
At last she wearies of tangles
And stitches that won’t stay small.
“I’ve only one word,” she says—“LOVE—
“But I guess that says it all.”