The Smithy
The “Smithy”
Written: By Tom Wright
4/28/04
The anvil’s peal breaches the mid day air,
and his four pound hammer fettles the shoe.
At the forge’s cinders in thought I stare,
and listen to the wheezing bellows spew.
The portrait of a bygone period in time,
when the aproned “Smithy” was still king.
Massive arms, covered with carbon grime,
powering out tunes with a hammers ring.
The livery and spreading chestnut tree,
like the buggy whip, their time is past.
If solely for the sentimental like me,
“Smithy’s” memory will for evermore last.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2015
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