First Ballad.
Symphony in the making was silently
waiting in his old workshop.
I viewed with amazement that motley
collection of well-used tools
and knew how unusual was the music
hung there adorning the walls.
Hammers and saws tuned in for action,
tin shears and gimlets
stood ready to combat wood-shrinkage,
old oil-stones for honing
the blades all told me they could sing to
a Maestro\'s conducting.
An old wicker-chair in which I was sitting
plaintively winced at my
young movement as I examined the magic
in that Merlin\'s cave for,
about to be married I needed a man who
was declared a true master
of all things wood and who by talented
hands could teach me the craft.
I for once was eager to learn all the hows
of the trade, thankful the chance
of fine carpentry was coming my way so
I put on my new white apron,
picked up the apprentice-stick-measure
and like a baton gave it a tap
as my first ballad was about to take shape.