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Hewn of Love
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Hewn of Love |
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Jon Mewett Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304 |
In the small white tent that need had made This is where they plied their trade They sat together working man and boy They carved out from the bleached white bone Religious relics they would hone And how they carved these monuments’ of joy Small white beads formed with care They would sell them to the pilgrims there As they passed by.. up to the holy mount The beads they’d hang around their head And walk along while prayers were said In grateful hands the precious beads they’d count This is all the boy had known He’d been born, lived and grown In the tiny village nestled by the hill They’d come down to their shop each day And together they would carve away And prayed to God their empty plates He’d fill The boy’s father was …gentle kind He’d always had a fruitful mind And to pass the hours he tell stories to the boy He’d tell of love he’d tell of prayer But mostly in their hours’ there He’d tell him how their life was full of joy The days were always hot and long And sometimes they would sing a song And the fathers’ voice was always full of hope They’d sometimes sing in voice so loud It would stop the passing crowd The melodies would weave and waltz and lope The boy’s sweet mother had passed away Ten years ago …a frightful day That day they’d wept that day they’d felt bereft It had drawn the man close to the boy Making him a greater joy Their two souls’ was all that there was left And so they carried on their yoke Of why it happened never spoke They accepted it was meant to be that way And if the boy would falter so The fathers’ hand would guide him… slow And his gentle voice would help him through the day And on this day from the heavenly rack The sun shone harshly on their back The boy was sitting working on the floor His father lay down on the sheet Took the linen from his feet He touched the boy...but he heard his voice no more The boy just sat and blankly stared He’d had never told him that he’d cared His father face was quiet and serene But he never forgot that awful day The day his hope had passed away But went on working where the pair had been The boy just carried on the trade But the trinkets now were poorly made That tent of joy became a sullen place He never spoke he never sang And all day long his head would hang Oh how he wished to see his fathers’ face Today the pilgrims’ still pass by The sun still pours down from the sky But now’s a relic carved with Gods’ own hand As they pass in prayers they tread But they always stop and bow their head At the white bone cross…. lying on the sand Jon Mewett |
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| © Copyright 2000 Jon Mewett - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Munda Member Elite
since 1999-10-08
Posts 3544The Hague, The Netherlands |
Jon, this is awesome. Gave me goose-bumps all over ! |
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childomine Senior Member
since 2000-01-25
Posts 818st. petersburg, FL |
Jon - you have an awesome talent for telling a taleand making one feel like they're right there watching it all. This is incredible! Beautiful and sad. Gave me chills too. |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Excellent writing Jon, I agree! I felt as though I were watching a movie! Denise |
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William P Bussey Member
since 2000-02-26
Posts 188 |
Jon, a wonderful story, it is life, then as now, we have to face what you just wrote, I think this is as good as I have read in many a day. bill |
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Jon Mewett Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304 |
Thanks everybody for your kind words. Jon |
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Sasikat Member
since 2000-02-02
Posts 290St. Petersburg, FL |
Jon, This is absolutely beautiful. I have to agree with Bill, one of the best I've ever read. So moving and tale-telling. Sheila ...the earth and myself are of one mind. The measure of the land and the measure of our bodies are the same........... Joseph, Nez Perce Chief |
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Jon Mewett Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304 |
Thanks Sheila for your kind words. Jon |
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rich-pa Member
since 2000-02-07
Posts 317New Orleans, Louisiana |
an excellent poem, what more can i say? |
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wonderous Member
since 2000-02-29
Posts 75 |
jon to quote from you you have a way with words you weave your tales with such finesse definately my favorite poet |
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Jon Mewett Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304 |
Glad you enjoyed it wonderous. Thanks for your kind words. Jon |
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Another Heather Member
since 2000-02-17
Posts 93Canada |
This was really sad. But I loved it. I always look forward to reading your stuff. Keep 'em coming! "Be yourself... No matter what they say" - Sting |
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