Knitting poetry

The worlds largest knitted poem. 

I so wanted to be apart of this, but as my magazine subscription to "Simply Knitting" , where I found the information, comes TWO weeks after the release in England, there were only plain squares left and I  didn't think it was worth it then, with the yarn and postage. But still it is a great idea and performance. 

Dylan Thomas

In My Craft or Sullen Art

In my craft or sullen art

Exercised in the still night

When only the moon rages

And the lovers lie abed

With all their griefs in their arms,

I labour by singing light

Nor for ambition or bread

Or the strut and trade of charms

On the ivory stages

But for the common wages

Of their most secret hart.

Not for the proud man apart

From the raging moon I write

On these spindrift pages

Nor for the towering dead

With their nightingales and psalms

But for the lovers, there arms

Round the griefs of the ages,

Who pay no praise or wages

Nor heed my craft or art.