THE BLACKSMITH
Written by: Robert Nehls
A smile faint, but none the less
It’s there within his eyes,
As the fire and the coals begin to burn.
Now his hand is on the hammer
And the smoke begins to rise,
Along with lasting memories that blacksmith’s earn.
Ten generations brought to him
Much more than just the tools,
As he worked beside his father and the flame.
Learning very quickly
It was not a trade for fools.
For thoughts and iron blacksmiths must learn to tame.
And though it’s been so many years,
The hammer fits him well,
As the anvil reaches out to grasp his skill.
He’s the master, the creative art
That time cannot dispel,
For he’s never lost the blacksmith’s flaming will.