Manual
I stepped into a place of magic.
Implements, antique construction,
still used everyday.
Shiny interlopers keep away!
The trusty and pre-fabricated still hold sway.
Products of a bygone era,
polished and honed to precision,
manual labour, the road to perfection.
(Note: on visiting a farmhouse in Finland
where many of the old-fashioned farm
implements are still used to this day.)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
