A Tattered Tatting

"The Fran Series": The fruit of a two-year love affair gone awry, I wrote about six of my all-time favorite poems. This is one of them.

A TATTERED TATTING

A Doily on the table lay,
A piece of tatted Lace
Soiled, wrinkled, all askew,
Tattered, in fact, on its face

But I imagined it as it WAS,
When from the patient Hands
And mind and heart of Artisan sprang
To first 'pon table land.

Green, its borders were, and pink:
Twelve triangles bright,
Equispaced, a fair rosette,
'round finest work, pure white.

Alas!, that Time had roughly dealt
That Doily many a blow,
It's spangled dangles shrunk, a-twist,,
And soiled, but spoiled? NO!

Now I, an Artisan, it espied--
I sought but to repair
The loveliness, the Craftsmanship
I knew within was there.

With patience and gentility,
Its dangles I'd untwist,
Steaming lightly, 'til their shape
Untangled, as I'd wish'd!

Its grey, discolored yarns, I kissed
The dirt from every thread�
But then, to my astonishment,
The Doily spoke, and said,

"Take care, fair Artisan, I pray,
For though I may seem worn
Twists and knots are all I am,
For that's how Tatting's born!"

"Mayhap what you perceive as wear's
"But a single thread, untied
"So, one MORE knot, not one Knot less
"I fear you've left untried!"

"Would you consider possible
"That a Craftsman more crafty than Thee
"Has tied and twisted a thousand Knots,
"More subtly that you can see?"

"Thy Pardon, fair Doily!", this Artisan sobbed,
Raised my hands, and backed away,
"I never thought, nor did I ask
"If in this state you'd stay!"

'NO, Sir!", quoth she. "I desire NOT
"The dis-repair, or dust;
"I desire only that the Pattern's respected;
"Giv'n that, do as you must!"

Now a saddened, but wiser Artisan
Her threads, each gently tests,
Inquiring, with each loving touch,
If aught were better left.

And together, each their roles they play
The results, none may yet see,
For they trust a greater Craftsman's hands--
His patience, and gentility!


september 15, 2005

Author's Note

Never let it be said that no good can come of a love gone bad. In this poem, I admit that I was trying to "fix" her, to re-shape her, without having been asked to do so, and so learning respect and humility.

Reviews

[Sheila Kline]

Oh Mark....this is just exquisite! You have told such a beautiful fable with a well learned lesson included.
I love the exchanges between the Artisan and the Doiley, with all of its tatting. As the Artisan worked, and worked, and worked, it was only in the realization that the doiley was exactly as it was supposed to be that needed not to be changed. or even rearranged, that your poem became "alive".
Wonderful, just wonderful! Tatting has become somewhat of a lost art. I am glad to see that you have spoken of it in such a skillful, and entertaining way!

[Marie]

Yes, the original pattern, twisted and tangled though it may seem, is meant to be kept as it is. Tatting, as it is, is beautiful. You spoke as the artsian who patiently crafted each knot. Then you gave the poem its deeper meaning by referencing the Craftsman who sculpted us all.

[Mark]

Thanks for your insight, Marie. The applicability to my life was when I
was compelled to realize that it is neither my right, nor my responsibility,
to jump into a relationship and commence fixing what I perceive as amiss. Even when both able and willing, the Artisan must consult with the object of his ministrations before plowing ahead willy-nilly.

[poetry lover]

It seems as if the words flowed easily onto the paper though I know better. It is a work of art. Your metaphors are amazing.

[Shep]

If found it truly amazing the story it tales it draws a person in and around the knots the byways in which it travels. Nicely done with poise and details are astounding.

[raining]

just think of the patience of those who created this artwork. They spent hours doing this work, i have seen some wonderful examples here in Vermont, our past heritage...seldom is there anyone willing to work in this way now, as far as I know, though perhaps there are those who continue this art.

I have been to farmhouses in the country where elder women work such miracles, and my dear old ma makes wonderful quilts, i do hope it is passed down....

the symbolism in this poem is great. a whole piece...as poems go. thanks, raining

[Through the Gateway]

Sometimes we forget that the very things we're trying to "fix" is the very things that make others who they are. Who we fell in love with to begin with. When we just sit and let the other person be who they are...we can appreciate them in all of their glory.

It's a good piece, Mark. I enjoyed it.

[cest la vie]

What a wonderful tale of accepting one as they are..faults, knots and all. You wove such a beautiful lesson for us all in this piece. I truly enjoyed this and it reaffirmed to me what I know, but we could all use gentle reminders. Thank you for suggesting and sharing this wonderful poem.
Lynne

[Marie Anzalone]

To help us return to our glorious state- but not try to "fix" us, or recreate us in your own image- that is such a trial for so many of us. I was just having this conversation today with someone else- how we are not taught the graceful art of simply "being present" with another human being. I am reminded of Oriah Mountain Dreamer when she says in her lovely poem "The Invitation":
"I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it."

For when you do such, a wonderful thing happens- you give the other person a safe place for the inner spirit to come forward and do its own healing work. All we need sometimes is that encouragement- whether we be man, woman, or child. The lace is such a lovely metaphor for what you say here; it reminds me almost eerily of a piece I did about a month ago called "Mending a Blanket", where I examined my feelings about a worn out relationship that no longer keeps one warm.

This was a very touching poem, Mark- I loved it on many levels. I wish there were more people who could pick up something that is not perfect, and still see its value, usefulness, and potential. The Japanese actually have a coined a term to describe the love of the imperfect: wabi-sabi. it's aownderful way to honor one's life and people!

[Marie Anzalone]

Forgot I had already reviewed this one, Mark. It is just as lovely the second time aorund.

[Ellen Hammond]

Wow! This speaks on several levels. I love your 'tatted doily' metaphor here! So often when we see someone broken, soiled, and hurting, we try to repair or 'fix' them, overlooking the big picture with all its knots that created the beauty in the first place. But that can negate all that they learned through the experiences which left them seemingly frayed or tattered, yet made them stronger from the many intricate knots tied by the Master Craftsman. Great poem. And God can bring good and beauty from ALL things, including, or especially a love gone bad.