What am I? POEM

I am a fiber of a thousand faces

My cream and pink blooms shine for a short time.

I am a soft, fluffy staple fiber that grows in a boll.

I have been spun, woven and dyed for hundreds of years.

You wear me when you slip into your blue jean,

Or when you reach down to tie your shoestrings.

You buy me in counts of 100 or more threads.

I can be luxurious and soft to touch when

You lie next to me in bed.

I can be grown in colors of red, green, and brown.

I am called by many names Lisle, Puma, denim, twill, and canvas.

I have sweet nectar that attracts insects that can destroy me.

I was the most important crop in the south during the Civil War,

I am grown, processed, produced, and harvested.

12/2/13

Picture of a  Cotton Field as I am riding down the road in a car.