Here is an hilarious poem I came across on a UK website about a church needlewoman with problems! Free patterns at the link below in red.
An embroiderer’s lament
The fringe on my frontal looks frightful,
The bulge in the burse is much worse,
The tunicle’s less than delightful,
And the vicar’s becoming quite terse.
He tripped on the verge of a vestment,
And strangled himself with the stole
And, somehow, the size of his chest meant
My bold cope had no hope at all.
The alb and the orphrey are awful
My motif misfires on the morse,
The tassels are tatty – a drawerful
Had tarnished and look very coarse.
The maniple lining is sagging,
The veil for the chalice too small,
The dalmatic’s dramatic but dragging
And I don’t like the kneelers at all.
I cannot be ready by Advent
It’s all such a terrible strain
But unclerical things that were said meant
(Thank God) they’ll not ask me again.