The wood turner takes a piece of wood
Gnarled and pitted as aged as it could
The holes are filled and bonded with resin
Which brings out the highlighted colour heaven
Attached to the lathe it turns as the tools cut down
The excess is taken off the shape as it's found
Slowly working the eye can see
The beauty found in natural wood not found easily.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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