Amazing Grace

1984:
I walked into the little haven,
White walls and hanging vine.
A furry coil of sleeping cat,
Where the canary sang .

Another place…..another time.…

And there stood Dona Gracia,
Lace Maker… stooped and thin.
Venha. Venha ..she called out,
and so I entered in.

The kitchen, small and clean.
Was bathed in shadowed light.
Two chairs …a floral table cloth,
A shelf with pickled fruit.

And here she sits to braid and twist,
the endless lacing threads.
Click click… the bobbins go,
Like Spanish castanets .

Each perfect tool was carved
by Gracia’s Marido*.
But he’s now in ‘o Ceu’ *
Where the Angels sleep.

Within these simple cottage walls
Exquisite lace is made.
For sale in International stores,
To Global millionaires

“ The work is lonely and it’s hard.
My spine is bent …my fingers gnarled.
Young girls no longer care to do it….
They prefer the tourist bars.”

I left the cool calm cottage,
for the Algarve’s burning heat.
With Gracia, her life and lace,
Forever in my heart.

(*Marido Husband. * o Ceu The Sky/Heaven)
Kristine Byrne. Nov 3rd. 2020