An ode to towelling – by Alex C, ex-crusader and very bad poet

Oh towelling how I love you
Let me count the ways
You are just right
For chilly nights
And languid summer days

Your easy-going nature
Makes lazy mummies smile
You flit with zest
From washed to dressed
And skip the ironing pile.

Your colours they are myriad
From reds, to blues to cream
Organic cloth
Is just so soft
And always very green!

So when I dress my darling
The muck magnet called my son
I’m always pleased
When from head to knees
He has his towelling on!

1 thought on “An ode to towelling – by Alex C, ex-crusader and very bad poet”

  1. In Scotland, where the wild winds blow
    The temperature is much too low
    For towelling to be worn each day.
    So I must find another way
    To dress my babies in the spring
    Or head abroad, aye, that’s the thing!

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