Oh soft brown mitten how I love thee,
With your alpaca yarn and cozy interior,
You kept my little cold fingers toasty warm,
And then, THEN, without a hint of warning,
You vanished and left your half without a whole,
I called to thee begging for your return,
Whispering sweet nothings to entice you home,
You knew how much your are loved,
And yet you do not return to me,
Do I give up hope for you?
Do I throw my bitter cold hands up in despair?
I shall not but will hope and pray
That one soon day you will return my way.
And if not this gives me an excellent excuse to go to the alpaca farm and buy more...in RED! HA!
