Flannel O Flannel, with your checks of red and gold, You whisper tales of forests deep and old. You smell of pine and dampened earth, A promise of warmth, a comforting birth. Your fabric, soft as down, invites a touch, A refuge from the winter's icy clutch. Around the campfire's glow, you'll keep me warm, A shield against the storm. With every button, a story unfolds, Of rugged days and adventures bold. You are the friend who'll never stray, Through changing seasons, come what may. So let me wear you, Flannel dear, And chase away the winter's fear. For in your embrace, I find my peace, A simple comfort, beyond release. Make an offer if you like the item. People who say no low-ball offers are dumb. Low-ball is subjective. If I don't accept it I will just ignore it.