The Craft
written by: Brad Osborne
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
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