He was six when he had the urge to make,
A sculpture from metal as a small keepsake,
As a gift for his beloved mother,
A beautiful necklace like no other.
As he matured, his fascination grew,
And he knew full well what he wanted to do,
He longed to work with metal for the rest of his days,
In the most unusual and bespoke of ways,
As Lorimer to a wealthy squire,
Making pieces of harness as he required,
He forged beautiful stirrups and handmade bits,
With every ounce of his skill and wits,
His fame travelled far and quite rightly so,
For he could kit out a horseman from head to toe.
The Lorimer
04 Thursday Apr 2013
Posted poetry
in
Carol Tomany said:
Lovely piece as always. I’m amazed that you found the time. Just lovely rhyme!!
caroness1 said:
Yhank
caroness1 said:
Thanks Carol
carolinaheartstrings said:
How elegant. What a privileged horse!
caroness1 said:
Th
caroness1 said:
Thanks Alessa
RAAckerman@Cerebrations.biz said:
Leave it to a Brit,
To find an arcane term,
To leave her poem firm,
And, to share her wit.
caroness1 said:
HAHA! Thanks Roy!
Bill Gelwick said:
This piece really conjured up some significant imagery. I could almost see his progression before me. It amazes em that someone could tell such a story with so few words. Very well done.
caroness1 said:
Thank you so much Bill.
annmullen said:
All I could say in rhyme was “The Lorimer, find out more.” Roy wins, but that spur is super. đŸ™‚
caroness1 said:
Thank you Ann…
Suerae Stein said:
Well done, Caro!
caroness1 said:
Thanks Suerae
Amy said:
This made me smile. No wonder you have such a faithful following, Caro! Nicely done!
caroness1 said:
Thank you kindly Amy!
MuMuGB said:
Lovely post. I learned new words, which is always nice. And I could picture the boy while he was working.
caroness1 said:
Thanks so much