From the dark recesses of the mind
ideas planned out so precisely
new images of designs are formed
then created for the world to see
with forge is all fired up
hammers and tongs are laid out ready
the air, full of anticipation
let`s get started and keep it steady
the forge sparks as the metal`s added
searing heat hits the air all around
the noise of " hammer on anvil "
fills the workshop with its sound
shapes slowly start to come to life
as metal is hammered, then reheated
rivots are made, Pillar drill`s working
hammering, heating, cooling, repeated
covered in sweat and dirt you toil
the beat of the hammers sound true
flexing your muscles to get it done
once completed, there`s the finish to do
lacquer, boot polish or the grinder
the finish can really make it look grand
forged from pieces of raw metal
to a finished item, from a Blacksmith`s hand.
I am the proud mother of an Artist Blacksmith and have watched him learn and develope his skills. This poem is a tribute of his love for his work.
Well Done Jon !!!