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Open Poetry #9
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The Whittler
| Open Poetry #9 |
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The Whittler |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
The WhittlerIn darkened shop, there in the back while all the city rests a whittler draws his sharpened knife from the pocket of his vest He forward shifts his aging frame and begins another night as life takes shape in leathered hands, a wooden bird aflight His cutting's keen, his fingers trace their tips upon the wood He smooths its surface tenderly as only an artist could With outspread wings, soft shades of grey his delicate bird's adorned This wedge of wood from a quiverleaf tree by gentle hands, transformed Above him on worn wooden shelves perch birds of every class and in the windows of the shop sit birds behind the glass His art is widely known and loved though his fee, a modest sum True payment lies in delighted cries he hears when children come His whittling finished for the night, the shavings now are high The grey winged bird atop the shelf as if taking to the sky The old man stoops and with his hands scoops up the wooden chips as the heaping mound of memories brings a sad smile to his lips For though his eyes can see no more his heart directs his knife as feathered wing and beak emerge when he brings the wood to life |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
Claire, wow beautifully written poem. So rich and realistic A wonderfully crafted tale. "I am melancholy, flower cutting through stone" manic street preachers |
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Bill Charles Member Patricius
since 2000-07-11
Posts 10619highways, & byways, for now |
Claire, This writing is abolutely amazing and so well done! It captured me, as I read it, and then just sat back and smiled. A beauty Claire!!!! |
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Mike Member Elite
since 1999-06-19
Posts 2462 |
Truly wonderful poetry here my friend. btw... should we call you Whittler's mother? (sorry...) Seriously, exceptional poem. |
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Richard McDonald Junior Member
since 2000-07-23
Posts 29Queensland, Australia |
I was enthralled and captivated by this poem. I think you have captured the feelings of many elderly peopple who's joy comes from grandchildren and children and that although they may have many ailments, there heart's love and feelings will never be suppressed. "Drink Life as it Comes. Striaght. No Chaser!" "Trust in the Lord always and he will lift you up!" |
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Lone Wolf Member Ascendant
since 2000-03-16
Posts 5842Lansing, MI USA |
Claire, You have spun a great tale here. I can see the whittler's bird come to life from the labor of his love. Great writing my friend.  Lone Wolf Poetry should surprise by fine excess...it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts and appear almost a remembrance. -J.Keats |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Claire--a tender story, told with the touch of light that only your pen holds...wonderful! |
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Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
Excellent Claire, you always know how to make your characters come alive. . . just wonderful my friend. . . --------------------------------------------------- That which gives light must endure burning --Victor Frankl |
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Denali Silverwolf Junior Member
since 2000-07-29
Posts 11 |
That was very beautiful. The image your words painted leave a fresh impression in my mind. Thank you for sharing it. |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Claire~ You have captured a moment that not many give thought to. How refreshingly tender. ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ noles1@totcon.com |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Exceptional writing... Claire, muchly enjoyed reading this.... regards, sudhir |
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ma miller Senior Member
since 2000-07-11
Posts 806 |
you've captured a frozen moment in time here, Claire ... nice touch ... (one can only stay away so long before the infection of instant gratifications begin their fester ... i missed reading your work) My calling before me, let quill be my offering; For to be called poet, no greater gift to receive. M.A. |
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JulieAnn Senior Member
since 2000-06-12
Posts 754Earth 3rd Rock from the sun!! |
This is just beautiful....why no book submission..??? It would have my vote for sure!!! A great story told here.... Julie :) |
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Kit McCallum
Administrator
Member Laureate
since 2000-04-30
Posts 14774Ontario, Canada |
Oh, I wish I could have voted for this one Claire! Just astonishingly beautiful, filled with wonderful imagery. My grandfather whittled us so many lovely images years ago ... sigh ... this brought back some sweet memories, thank you! Best wishes, /Kit |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
Brian, your response was so enthusiastic ~ thank you! Bill, thank you...I'm so glad to know that you enjoyed the beauty you found in this tale. Mike, Whittler's Mother?... I'm sure I've been called a whole slew of colorful names, but I believe I'll have to decline your offer, my friend. Thanks for the readthrough, dear. Richard, thank you so much for your kind and thoughtful response. Lone Wolf, thank you for reading and letting me know you enjoyed this one. It was a bit different for me. Martie, for such a gracious response, I thank you sincerely. Sven, and you always say the nicest things. Thank you, Sven. Denali Silverwolf, I thank you for your encouraging response, and welcome you to Passions. Marge, sweet lady, I thank you for your tender words. Sudhir, thank you for letting me know you enjoyed it. M.A., that you missed my work is such flattery... I think I'm speechless! Thank you Julie Ann, I have a few other poems submitted for consideration in the book...didn't want to overstay my welcome! I'm glad you enjoyed this one, and I thank you for such a kind response. Kit, how wonderful to know that this piece reminded you of your Grandfather...I used to watch in wonder at the whittlers that would sit on the benches outside the courthouse in my Grandmother's little town. creating all sorts of shapes from their little pieces of wood. Thank you. ~ Claire Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?......Henry David Thoreau |
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