When god sat down

to knit the world,

she grabbed her ball

of coloured yarn

and thought about

what she might do

to weave the sky,

the clouds,

the ground,

and all of me

and most of you.


So, god began her

knitting trial

and turned her needles

this way and that,

and so the world

and all its parts

began to find

its grand display

and take its shape

and find its form

in all god’s many

and varied ways.


And god, with all her

merry hands,

knitted away for

six long days,

and made the stars

up in the sky,

and all the planets

and then the moon,

and strung them out

for all to see as

her grand

and coloured tapestry.


She knitted with a feverish pace

till all the animals, two-by-two,

came into shape and found

their kind from her tender

almighty stitching hands;

and then they roamed

the sweeping plains across

this green and crocheted place,

content to have a god like she

who gave them life

and gave them hope.


Then after six days

of weary joyful work,

god put down her needles

and her yarn

and said that frankly

she’d had enough,

and now it was time

to have a rest

and look and see

and brag about

all her knitted

and quilted stuff.


And god saw all

her knitting work,

and she was really,

really chuffed:

“It’s pretty damn good!”

she said out loud,

“And best of all,

the nicest ones of the lot,

are my rainbow coloured

cutesy snake,

my giant fruited

forbidden tree

and that lovely,

sweet hearted girl

that I will call, Eve.”