The Silver slid,

Beneath and hid,

In a place just for me.

"My name," it said "is Silver Thread and for you I shall sew a dream".

It danced and spun,

and when it was done

there was a silver sky and a silver sun.

It stitched and seamed,

it primed and preened,

a silver forest with a silver stream.

"My name," it said "is Silver Thread. What more could you ask of me?"

"I'm sorry," I cried, as I replied "but I'd rather have red or green."