Perhaps the armour is not worn any
more in recognition *George* but the
blacksmith's still attend to the knights
who continue to fight for our honor....
I really like that line: “that gave me the shaft?” I'm proud to say that my great-great-grandfather was a blacksmith in the Civil War. That's probably why he and his five brothers all returned home. All of these writers that write about chivalry are just repeating old stories over and over again.
Unlikely heroes are still around. Steve Jobs has wrought magic from silicon, aluminum, and plastic.
I like to see these men of yore
working inside their black smithing shop. I can see a
man a wee bit heavy with black apron on and sweat on his brow.
Holding his sword over the fire and returning it to the anvil
as he hammers it it sparks flying.
Those ghosts of the past always remain within us! They are our legends, like Jerry says... "oh yes, they are there." :)
Ah yes, George, but as you say they are still around, we are just unable to see them. Sometimes though, in the wee hours of mourn, if we lay very still and keep our eyes closed we can hear them. They're there. Oh yes, they are there.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
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more in recognition *George* but the
blacksmith's still attend to the knights
who continue to fight for our honor....
I really enjoyed your poem,
Lady Vivian
So good to see you writing here again.
Blessings,
Christine
Unlikely heroes are still around. Steve Jobs has wrought magic from silicon, aluminum, and plastic.
Ron
I like to see these men of yore
working inside their black smithing shop. I can see a
man a wee bit heavy with black apron on and sweat on his brow.
Holding his sword over the fire and returning it to the anvil
as he hammers it it sparks flying.
Those ghosts of the past always remain within us! They are our legends, like Jerry says... "oh yes, they are there." :)
Great write!
Love and Light
Carol