Some still now
remember when
years ago
it there stood
red enamel
with handles of chrome
a polished top
of finest wood
with drawers so large
with tools filled
most carefully cleaned
and put away
wrenches of chrome
both tiny and large
some modified
for particular jobs
and bars of brass
most carefully shaped
that they did use
in most curious ways
and how they did tell
tales of old
in jobs they done
over so many years
but now it’s gone
just memories remain
of the red toolbox
now they’re gone away
Categories:
toolbox, poetry,
Form: Free verse
In you, my father's tools lie,
You house his tools of labour,
I look into you and sigh,
You still stand even though my father has gone beyond the harbour,
I look at you and remember the stories he told,
I look at you and I remember how he sojourned in the past,
I look at you and remember how he cherished you,
Those were days of old,
You stood with him until the last,
And to his service you were true.
Incorrigible toolbox,
You've been through thick and thin,
This is not a hoax.
The tools you have kept clean,
You've done much good,
I salute your persistence,
Praise your dedication,
You wore no sombre mood,
To your duty, there was no insistence,
You spark inspiration.
Box of years ago,
A keepsake,
Your master you have let go,
All the time I have I’ll take
to keep you,
For the years I have to stay,
I'll play my part,
These years you have lived through,
Each nightfall and each day,
So we'll stay until I depart.
March 7, 2023.
Categories:
toolbox, poetry,
Form: Ode
A dull-looking scuffed up ebony toolbox full of pure happiness,
Sat in the back of Charley’s old green Chevy pick-up truck,
Waiting for him to drink his three cups of coffee.
“Another adventure!” the wrench said to the clamps.
The tools knew that Charley would be using them today for sure.
He had thrown a tarp, some paint cans, and his can of nails in last night.
They were eager to get started, happy to see what they would be building.
“Here he comes!” the hammer said. “Silence!” There was instant compliance.
The tools shook with exuberance, feeling today’s adventure.
Would they be building a window seat, porch, deck? Someone’s park bench?
“SHHHH!” the pliers cautioned them. “He is getting in!”
Charley had no idea they were aware he was lifting souls
One project at a time. A simple carpenter, with a good soul…
Categories:
toolbox, happy, joy,
Form: Prose Poetry
A plumber called Geoffrey Golightly
Enjoyed making love almost nightly
But he got such a clout
When his wife caught him out
Now he’s holding his toolbox quite tightly
Categories:
toolbox, funny, husband, love, wife
Form: Limerick
I'm dancing in a toolbox.
Used for many tools.
Dancing all around them.
Cautious of you fools.
I'm dancing in a toolbox,
frightened for my life.
Just a tiny jewel,
set; a tray of strife.
I'm dancing in a toolbox.
Looking for some help.
Waiting for my parents;
to commandeer my health.
I'm dancing in a toolbox.
YELLING for my friends.
Who will come and help me?
Save me from these ends.
I'm dancing in a toolbox.
YES. I am.
I'm dancing in a toolbox.
A CARPENTER.
THE END.
Categories:
toolbox, angst, passion, work
Form: Couplet