Apprenticeship Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Quiet apprentice to what I survey,

I ready myself - bladed sun shining -

To craft a gradely well-contented day,

In line with its heavenly designing.



Motes of dust dance in the workshop window

As I strip back the covers to my task,

Taking stock of what the new day will show -

Of what must be discarded or made-fast -



And what poor rough lines need bettering,

If I am to become a true craftsman.

On I work, with form in fastness growing,

My touch grown old and still so much to learn,



Shaping my love of life, making my peace,

My facsimile of the masterpiece.