Tatting To-Day by David Law Proudfit

(the frame is a collage of photos I've taken in the last year)

Tatting To-Day

With figure demure, and a downcast face,

And a tranquil air of quiet grace,

Her delicate fingers deftly wrought

A pattern as fine as a fairy’s thought,

Tatting that day!

O maiden fair, with the silken hair,

And the shining eyes of a luster rare,

What abracadabra’s mysterious spell

Is thy flying shuttle weaving so well,

Tatting to-day?

Ah, sir, I work to have my way

In the perfumed air of a gracious day;

My nimble fingers are weaving a snare

To entangle human hearts.  Beware

Of my tatting to-day!

So the lily fingers entrancing flew,

And the lustrous eyes were heavenly blue;

And the silken hair was shot with gold,

And down in a golden glory rolled,

Tatting that day.

And she had her will on a gracious day,

All clad in a cloud of white array;

And I bless the day and the perfumed air

That kissed her cheek as she wove her snare

Tatting that day.
                                      David Law Proudfit