Cardigan
Granny knits me one every year!
It’s the Christmas gift from hell.
Lime green, mauve, pillar box red
with cute buttons on as well.
When I was a baby I didn’t mind
wearing the hand-knit three ply;
my cardies were soft and cosy and warm
though the necks were tight and itchy.
And when I was four and starting school
there was one in bottle green.
I wanted a sweatshirt like everyone else
but to say so would have been mean.
This year I’m bracing myself to ask
for a cool grey White Fox hoody
but already I hear the needles clack!
Pink mohair, mum says. Oh goody!
It’s the Christmas gift from hell.
Lime green, mauve, pillar box red
with cute buttons on as well.
When I was a baby I didn’t mind
wearing the hand-knit three ply;
my cardies were soft and cosy and warm
though the necks were tight and itchy.
And when I was four and starting school
there was one in bottle green.
I wanted a sweatshirt like everyone else
but to say so would have been mean.
This year I’m bracing myself to ask
for a cool grey White Fox hoody
but already I hear the needles clack!
Pink mohair, mum says. Oh goody!
This poem is copyright (©) Carole Bromley 2026

About the Writer
Carole Bromley
Carole Bromley lives in York and writes for both adults and children. Winner of Caterpillar Prize, poems in Tyger, Tyger, The Toy, Paperbound, Little Thoughts Press and in anthologies from MacMillan, Nosy Crow, Emma Press. Teaches courses on writing poems for children https://thewritingschool.co.uk/our-courses-and-events