Home > Poetry > Blacksmith


The tongue strikes the palate

A blacksmith striking, words

Sparking from his mouth

Sentences hammering into shape

As with all blacksmiths

Start first with the tools

Forging each clumsily at first

Experience making the hammer

Surer with each strike

The armor better molded

The sword sharper

The tool more resilient

The forge withstanding blows

Poor and smart alike

When the raw red ore pools

The throat opens, the bellows pump

The sand gives shape

The blacksmith hammers with increasing skill

Until he has mastery over the hammer

Knowing the skill will leave

Or the arm will weaken

Then the blacksmith will have earned his rest

Having passed on all he could

To his apprentice

  1. October 5, 2012 at 1:43 pm

    I love it. I would change it to a She. 🙂

    • October 5, 2012 at 2:35 pm

      Thank you! I went back and forth on using a gender pronoun at all, but this eventually stuck.

  2. October 6, 2012 at 2:48 pm

    I agree, a ‘She,’ is what I thought of as I read, but still – very nice post!

  1. October 5, 2012 at 1:51 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: