Mother must have wondered where
Her big crochet thread went. Who'd dare

To take it? Why would they? Better ask Ed.
No thought of kite strings entered her head,

My brother had searched both high and low
To find some twine he needed so,

He happened to find it, just the thing,
Crochet thread became a substitute string,

It worked so well as he payed it out
Farther and farther until, no doubt

It flew clear over the neighbors' abode,
And over the highway, (really a road),

But then the wind began to slacken
And hand-over-hand the line he took back in

Covered the ground like summer snow,
What to do with it, he didn't know,

Did he roll it up? I rather doubt it
He probably found a way to discard it,

A mystery to this very day,
How that summer snow melted away.

by D. Edgar Murray