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david-tollickPoems
You carve your trade Above your door The chisel bright and keen Looking for work Like a collie dog Mallet wagging Weightless in your hand Rounding the letters The letters speak of rowan Fetched from a'side A mountain burn Fed by snow-melt Even in summer Hot sun through thin air Burnishing each day The wild, burred grain Adorned with marquetry anemones Each petal in fine horn Further etched with pewter And you will love that sign The thought of that sign Even if you never carve a single letter Nor ever hang it until You have something to trade
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Apr 16, 2011
Apr 16, 2011 at 11:32 PM UTC
A Sign
You carve your trade Above your door The chisel bright and keen Looking for work Like a collie dog Mallet wagging Weightless in your hand Rounding the letters The letters speak of rowan Fetched from a'side A mountain burn Fed by snow-melt Even in summer Hot sun through thin air Burnishing each day The wild, burred grain Adorned with marquetry anemones Each petal in fine horn Further etched with pewter And you will love that sign The thought of that sign Even if you never carve a single letter Nor ever hang it until You have something to trade
david-tollick
Written by
david-tollick
Scottish
Apr 16, 2011
Apr 16, 2011 at 11:32 PM UTC
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