The workshop smelt of oil and sweat,
Of stone and wood and clay.
The tools of many disciplines,
Around, about they lay.
The handyman, he raised his head:
“How may I help today?”
“My plate,” I said. “It fell. It broke.
Was nothing I could do.”
I offered him the bag of shards,
Of red and green and blue:
“The task is beyond my skill, but
I hear good things of you.”
The handyman, he took the bag,
He didn’t say a word.
No words were needed if he was
As good as I had heard.
The twinkle in his eyes said an
Agreement had occurred.
Now the waiting brought misery;
All rain, and no rainbow.
How could I cope without my plate?
I didn’t truly know.
For shards were better than nothing –
Why had I let it go?
Absence makes the heart grow fonder;
That’s what they’ve always said,
And now that absent plate, it seemed,
To my fond heart was wed.
That handyman! If only I’d
Left something else instead!
But I consoled myself with hope
Of coming better days,
For my plate would soon be mended,
My heart repaired always.
If only the handyman would
Avoid needless delays!
The handyman! That handyman!
He’d sown a bitter crop!
But then the news, it came to me,
From that far-flung workshop.
The task had been completed and
My anguish – it could stop.
The workshop smelt of oil and sweat,
Of wood and clay and stone.
“My dear plate,” I said. “Where is it?
I’ve come to take it home.”
The handyman, he passed to me
The plate I had once known.
“What violence have you done to it?”
I screamed at what I saw,
For my soul, my beautiful plate,
Seemed beautiful no more.
The handyman was silent, like
One who’d been here before.
This was no plate! That villain! He’d
Made something else instead!
A fine mosaic formed of shards
Of green and blue and red.
“This isn’t what I wanted, sir.
You’ve done me wrong!” I said.
The handyman, he frowned at this,
His voice boomed, dark and strong:
“You brought me shards, I gave my craft.
How have I done you wrong?
I’m the handyman. Why go back
Instead of going on?”
“You say you heard good things of me?
You now think them untrue?
They’re not. I think within your heart
You knew what I would do.
You see, my friend, I don’t repair.
Behold! I make things new.”
