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."