Lacy Handkerchief Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

Lacy whites and flower patterns,
snowflake doilies, will you buy?
Crisp, pure, starched, amazing details,
Sold in stalls by nimble hands,

I will buy and take this treasure
To my room with transient glee.
For as soon as water hits it
Limp and wrinkled it will be.

Who has made these tempting treasures
In a country far away?
Who has starched them, who has knit them
Who has toiled so endlessly?

Did the hands that made this bounty
Ever get to taste of it?
Did they think as they were toiling
Who the purchaser would be?

As I gently touch this hanky
Pristine clean as snow and ice
I do thank the one who made it
Sweating for a bowl of rice.

And I think of hands that made it.
Were they wrinkled, limp and sad?
Were they big or were they little?
Was their owner still a child?

Thank you for the thrill you gave me
Sitting in my velvet chair
Watching crisp and lacy patterns
Lighting up my day of care.

May your toil be for a purpose
May you rest by end of day
May the fates give you a blessing
Like the one you gave to me.