The anvil rings with deft hammer blows
fire like a dragons breath bellows into the furnace
scattering orange specks in a plume above the coals
the anvil rings and sweat runs in rivulets
a man earns his bread and ale forging iron
sword or scythe its all the same to the blacksmith
Horseshoe for plough horse or war steed.
His children will sleep with full bellies.