The Craftsman — a poem from a reader

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Author: Mike Hays

The Craftsman



a poem by Michael Alan Hays

The craftsman his tools very precise

Refines, hones and sharpens his knives

Working with his loves ~ mahogany and teak

Known to hum, as there is no speak

Revealing the rings of character and age

The scent of fresh cut wood

Releases the sage, from within

Within…

Sculpting, whistling and crafting with care

Turning and spinning, whittle and carve

Rasping and sanding, and refining the art

He runs his fingers across the work

It is this that tells him the song of the lark

Loon and mallard he’s carved

The smooth finish

A beautiful work

Created by the hands of man…

The craftsman an old sort in modern time

A merry old man, with a passion for wood

With heart rich and a mind wise

His love for his work an endless passion

A tradition carried through generations…

And he like the “Garvin Carver” endlessly toils

And polishes his craft

This master craftsman forever he toils…

For it is the craft of toil which he purely finds pleasure in…

And it is within his shop that

He creates something quite special, something unique…

~ Nearer the holidays many fine things appear on his busy shelves

Perhaps some of these created by elves

Perhaps, perhaps…

The craftsman ponders and hums to himself,

As his work carries on,

As his work carries on…

[JP: PS, the “Garvin Carver” is an unknown craftsman of priceless old furniture.]



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