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Posts Tagged ‘lathe’

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IMG_6691

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She feels the golden stand

between her palms,

follows every curve

with fingers

searching for the essence

of a splintered block of tree

as he spun and shaped it

on his lathe,

then polished gently

with his sacred oil.

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Now she lights the candle

and watches

as the blush of flame

smooths up the walls

inside her heart

and out into the night.

She muses on a memory

and wonders

if he’ll ever know

how his soul-fire

lit her world

and turned the sky

a warmer shade of light.

 .

© 2013, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

(a re-post)

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Candle holder in photo created by the DutchMan.

 

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IMG_6691

.

She feels the golden stand

between her palms,

follows every curve

with fingers

searching for the essence

of a splintered block of tree

as he spun and shaped it

on his lathe,

then polished gently

with his sacred oil.

.

Now she lights the candle

and watches

as the blush of flame

smooths up the walls

inside her heart

and out into the night.

She muses on a memory

and wonders

if he’ll ever know

how his soul-fire

lit her world

and turned the sky

a warmer shade of light.

 .

© 2013, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Candle holder in photo created by the DutchMan.

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Music carved the walls

of his cave

while his lathe

spun out bowls

from the old elm tree.

She held one to her lips

and sipped the brew

of smooth intention

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and his music swelled the tunnels

and the caverns

of her heart

as she swayed to his tempo

while he penned his poetry.

 .

But the day came

when the music stopped

and there rose a wall

of silent drums

when all the words fell flat

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and there had never been

such a deafening quietude

nor had she ever known

such a glorious ache.

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(c) 2011, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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