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Monograms
I am monogramming
Seven dozen napkins,
With tablecloths to match,
For a bride.
Ninety-one times my needle shall trace
The leaf-like scrolls that interlace
Each other; up the padded side
Of the monogram my eye shall guide
For ninety-one days where the stitches run ;
And every day one more is done.
She is tall and fair,
She will be married
In June. ...
The linen is fine as satin is fine;
Its shining coolness flaunts design
Of death-white poppies, trailing ferns