I wanted to love you,
You wouldn’t let me.

I wanted to love him,
He wasn’t there.

I wanted to love God,
Who is everywhere
And nowhere.

These desires,
Why won’t they leave me?

I find myself
Not wanting to be
With such cravings.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting

Your cruelty is a teacher.
Your silence a voice.

You push me away
And, I fall.

You blame me for things.
And, I see.

Your distance
Calls me closer.

Your games are steps
Leading me.

Toward who?

Who is Teacher.
Who is Master.
Who is Savior.
Who is all Love.

God is using you.

Thank you.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting


Torn walls.
Frame stands open.
Partner door loosed from its hinges
As if not knowing.

Light in the distance,
Cold air has taken its hold.
Crusty paint tries to remember
From where it came.

Was it war?
A great divide?
That left me thus.

Yellow-greens of dying grasses,
Long, tangled, bent and wrinkled.
A dotted stepping stone is hidden now,
And another, and another,

Once with purpose.


Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.


The sound of
No church bells ringing
In my adopted,
Catholic country.

It hurts my empty,
Craving ears
And, pierces my mind’s heart.

Middle of the night
Is now my day, spent in isolation.

A dog barking in the distance,
I kneeling down to pray
With eyes half shut,
Body bending in submission.

The new rules
Forced upon us
As precaution, protection.

Everyone agrees.

I am, no.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile as a distraction.


Love is…

a – accepting someone how they are and how they are not
b – being present to the other, really present
c – creating space for miracles
d – dancing like no one is watching
e – exactly how it is. This is it, baby!
f – forgiving: over and over and over again
g – gratitude: for every single moment of it
h – holding on to each other in good times and in bad times
i – integrity always!
j – jumping in with both feet
k – kindness, practicing being kind
l – listening, really listening, without an agenda
m – miracles, undeserved – everyday!
n – NOW
o – one hundred / one hundred, no fifty / fifty in this game!
p – possibility, anything is possible, having a truly remarkable relationship.
q – quiet meals together
r – Romance!
s – slow dances with the same person
t – Today. There is no tomorrow.
u – understanding – having a bucket full
v – vulnerability
w – willingness to let go, and to let go of ït”.
x – hugs and kisses and more…xoxoxoxoxo
y – Yes. Saying yes.
z – zzzzzz – letting the other person sleep… …

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile as a distraction.


Button lies heavy.
It’s hard, black surface
Standing still and
Finding small comfort
Among the shiny, wrinkled ribbons
Of deep red.

Button reaches –
Touching the sister ribbon
Of faded yellow-green
Wanting what the ribbons have.

Ribbons so entangled.
Enmeshed in the softness
That cloud-like yarn offers
In gratitude.

They hardly notice
Button’s earnest effort;
Feeling only the weight.
Glass button, a sharp contrast.

Button, oh ill shaped button
Not a square, nor a circle
Who made you?

How is it you have landed here?

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.



The familiar.
What makes for the look sideways,
Over there?
Just to make sure the stuff is in its place.

Is it the dream?
That maybe.
Another look, only one this week.
Might it appear different?

Truly, it was the imagination,
All of those cruel words.
Words, words, and words…
Hurled words, like boulders.

Am I alive
Or merely a shell
The remnant of a person?
Having withstood, facing head-on,
With few words of my own
In combat.

Fail quickly, someone told me,
Too late!

See there, the empty, bent trash can.
Fill and tie a tight, square knot, with lid crammed shut.
The heavy thing carried away, by someone else.
A kind, hardworking soul.
Or, the virtual trash can, that makes a real sound.

Who cares how?
Only in the gratitude
That the space is now cleared.
New meaning allowed for, in this pretend life,
My one chance, I presume.

Limp to the safety.
Of the empty space.

And, rest for a while.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.










Become a minister of the Eucharist
And, see the world.

Ours is a world of hands
Human hands – opened
And, of human hands – receiving.

Two hands held near heart, uplifted!
With faces and eyes gazing in reverence.
Of vulnerability, at the Gift.
In sharing, of commonality.

How can I not know
That I am safe in this world.
When I see these hands?

I am knocked down onto my knees
By this holy experience, of shared belief
That there is more to this world
Than any of us can see while in our human bodies.

In wavelike lines, waiting our turn, and we trust.
Every week we receive, as if medicine.
Our sharing in this ritual of Eucharist.

Though, here in Church, we are disconnected
From the streets and the lights of the city
In which our lives really occur.
Daily living, filled with chores that have become duties.

Where the world is – of voices.
Talk, and waiting for another turn,
To talk again.

Now I know and understand
That our God is a God of Silence
And, my heart sings with relief!

I can go anywhere.
I can be anyone.
I already am!

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.

How big does one play this game?
How badly does one have to want it?

When does the old get thrown out with nothing to replace?
When is emptiness the better choice?

When does the space become more important
Than all of the accumulated stuff?



Old, beautiful things,
Collected over time,
We call them the
Not found easily
In the marketplace.
Searched, scrubbed,
Rubbed dry,
And oiled.
Purchased with pennies
Spilled from tattered


Materials and the embellishments, aptly called findings,
Collected over time, for use in an unknown future
When working with a particular piece, incomplete,
A need is seen by the eyes and soul
Of the one pair of hands.

The maker’s dreams, give forth a knowing, that in time
Things find very specific places, fulfilling the certain need.
A touch of magic then passes through the maker,
Creating a whole and complete picture.
Signature placed with smile.

Yet, life seems shouting for exploration, for more than this!
New territories appear to call out with undecipherable words,
Words nonetheless, speaking to the heart, yearning.
The eyes and soul not yet finished; one pair of hands
Begging to hold things never imagined.

When do I get to pick up my mat and walk?
How long must I wait here?

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting

One is holding,
Sitting with unbearable longing,
Impatient, waiting, trembling.

The other is bursting
Playing, full out

One has begun
The unfolding process

I so dislike the word

I want it all now.


Peeking from its very own petals
Girl rising from her previous
Self consciousness.

Fear shrugged off
Light warms.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting