As I run my hands across the bolts,
In my mind I see,
A dozen new creations,
That this fabric soon could be.
The sight and touch of every thread,
Is a chance to bring to being,
The incredible potential,
That only I am seeing.
From within the mental catalogue,
One image steals the show,
I lift the fabric from the rack,
and the magic starts to flow.
Scissors, pins and needles,
Are guided by my mind,
A dress takes shape as the fabric drapes,
A true one of a kind.