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.]
