General Poetry posted May 9, 2017

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The Forgotten Smithy

by Thal1959

Let thy dreams take thee back over five hundred years!
Breathe life to dead shadows, and the smithy appears.
Ponder and look with thy mind and give thought,
of the arms and the armor strong arms had once wrought.
Make note of large pliers and files with a tongue,
and speak of how hammers on anvils had sung.
Stare at the forge where iron was beat,
and you'll almost see coals glow red in the heat.
Can you picture the sparks when shields were rounded,
to ringing and clanging as struck anvils sounded?
Perhaps they honed swords with smooth whetting stones,
or fashioned stiff braces for broken bones.
Behold where they baptized the lances and spears,
in barrels of water; or perhaps, widow's tears?
If you can almost smell smoke that escaped through the flue,
you might wish you could render the blacksmiths their due.
But, alas, all the smiths who had made iron pliant,
have all disappeared, and the smithy is silent.
Softly mourn for the smithy, 'tis forgotten once more,
as it fades to the shadows, that entombed it before.

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