At one time buttons were often set with gems. Some of my ancestors happened to be button makers - Hence an ode to the Button Maker

Master Button Maker

John was working late this night
Sketching designs to his delight
He worked by the spiky flame
For lavender lady earlier came

Clippings of precious stones lay strewn
Rainbows of shavings like the moon
Gems in buttons were set in place
Some with an exquisite pearly face

The next day there was storm and rain
And the lavender lady - never came
As disappointment filled his soul
His hands tried to gain control

Looking sadly at his watch
A ray of light seemed to catch
The hazy golden hands of time
That seemed to tick away in rhyme

Shining still amid the tools
His glasses lay like clear pools
He reaches out his eyes are dim,
See nothing much beyond the rim.

Hardly noticed the slanted rain
Hitting against the window pain?
Scattered shells lay dull and faded
Gems lost their glitter degraded

No orders for his fancy strayed
His trembling hands just obeyed
His work simply boring found.
Was making buttons in the round

He worked into the fading light
Then lit candles to the night
And in the circles glowing space
Stood lavender lady in a shawl of lace!

Beryl McMullen