Now for something lighter, and just so you’ll know that yours truly can turn a rhyme…. A poem I wrote in Dec of 2000. I awoke in the middle of the night, ran up to my office and as fast as I could type wrote “The Wordsmith”.
I am an artist but have no brush in hand. I am not a singer,
and I don’t have a band.
I don’t hammer on an anvil or shape a piece of steel,
or mold a lump of clay as it turns on a potter’s wheel.
I am a wordsmith and my art is words,
ideas covered in phrases and thoughts with noun and verb.
Common sense and wisdom are hidden in my heart,
until they are colored with the tapestry of my art.
I have never made a penny, yea, less than a widow’s mite,
but words placed on purpose give me great delight!
The way I arrange the letters allows all to see,
inside the artist’s mind and heart. What you really see is me.
It just makes me happy to write a line or two,
to unwrap my latest masterpiece for all the world to view.
I am a wordsmith and if all my art is read, I’ll be happy with my one color work if you listen to what I’ve said.
You don’t have to like my art, and you don’t have to agree,
but just knowing you have looked is good enough for me.
I would like to write for a living but it’s hard to get a start,
so how about a quarter? Can you find it in your heart?
Dec 31, 2000