The Craft

 

 

I threw a dictionary onto potter’s wheel

And watched as the words turned

A solid lump of unmolded thought

Its beauty to be discerned

 

And as mind’s hands begin to shape

This mass now set to spinning

My fingers dig into the clay

Searching for the beginning

 

Just one truly gifted line

Somewhere that I can start

To turn these words into ones

Demonstrative of the art

 

And like the joy found within

A fine vessel made of earth

I hope the words I cut away

Will leave the ones of worth

 

When the work begins to dry

I wet it with inspiration

Hoping the story will unfold

And reveal a destination

 

The treadles must keep pace

Though my legs may well tire

If I hope to leave behind

Some verse that will inspire

 

As much as I aspire to be

Seen in an artist’s role

My hands are not so gifted

My only art this shallow bowl

 

In hopes of making masterpiece

I’ve learned to my chagrin

My arts only worth to the world

Is what the reader sees within

 

 

 

Comments
9 Responses to “The Craft”
  1. What a powerful use of words to make a point!

  2. yassy says:

    Beautiful, this is the poetry I have been wanting to read for a long time. Thank you, Brad.

  3. mehjabinh says:

    Fabulous lines! Loved reading them!

  4. jupitergrant says:

    Masterful. You are such a talented poet! 🤗🌹

  5. Jim Borden says:

    what a wonderful analogy; spinning a beautiful poem out of just the raw material of random letters and words.

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