Jan 26

‘THE CRAFTSMAN’ By Seth Finnegan

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He carves, the craftsman, from a block

Of Heath tree briar, shapes the wood

Chisels as a craftsman should

For bowl and stem to interlock

For pipe tobacco’s rich warm scent

To think this came by accident

To think that when his meerschaum broke

The merchant asked a Corsican

To make from briar, if he can

A duplicate, the dream awoke

That sea foam floated into air

And from it came the dark bruyere

The Jura’s keep the secret well

Of how the briar came to be

The craftsman works the wood, but he

Has such a favourite tale to tell

Before he lights that magic fire

Born of labours love, the briar

And so he chips with skill and pain

To form a thing of rarest beauty

Considers it his bounded duty

Teasing out that lovely grain

The craftsman working to create

Took accident, for something great

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