The Blacksmith | |
601 | A humble blacksmith lived down south. |
His forge was too his home. | |
He was a serf to heat and steel, | |
so proved his ashened clothes. | |
605 | The days of hamm’ring steel passed by. |
His thoughts at times distract, | |
and though he forged with diligence, | |
his mind shifts to his craft. | |
He’s dedicated years to arms | |
610 | that only hurt and kill, |
but justice also flows from swords | |
to those men rife with guilt. | |
And smiths have armor to produce | |
which shield those gallant knights, | |
615 | but armor saves some cruel bad men |
who spread distrust and fright. | |
So is the blacksmith good or bad? | |
And is he wanting fault? | |
Are vendors too responsible | |
620 | for deeds of he who bought? |
One day a famous rebel man | |
came riding on his horse. | |
He galloped to the blacksmith’s house | |
and dictated with force: | |
625 | “Make me a thousand breastplates, sir. |
Meld twice as many swords. | |
Make spears and arrowheads abound. | |
I’m stocking up for war!” | |
Smith stared upon that rebel man | |
630 | unable to believe. |
An order such as this would make | |
him wealthy like the queen! | |
But then a sense of caution crept. | |
He asked quite practically: | |
635 | “Why do you need these weapons, lord? |
How will you pay your fee?” | |
The lord dissenter answered him: | |
“My reasons are my own. | |
But know that when I win this war | |
640 | I’ll take my mighty throne. |
I’ll pay you from the treasury. | |
The realm will hold no debt. | |
But first, produce the weapons, sir. | |
You’ll get no money yet .” | |
645 | The smith thought hard and gave response: |
Declined with an head shake. | |
The world stood still with lord provoked. | |
Had smith made a mistake? | |
Dissenter grunted grimly then | |
650 | but did not brandish arms. |
He spurred his warhorse onwards to | |
vast endless lands of farms. | |
The blacksmith breathed deep with relief, | |
reflected on the scene. | |
655 | He just refused an evil man |
and gold he could have gleaned. | |
But he’d refuse a good man, too | |
in similar event. | |
The reason smith denied that man: | |
660 | A credit pays no rent. |
Monthly Archives: April 2015
The Blacksmith
The Security Guard
The Security Guard | |
541 | Security guard stood afoot, |
but night was getting late. | |
His lead eyes now were drooping low. | |
He has to stay awake. | |
545 | He shook his leg and walked around. |
His coffee poured and flowed. | |
The bank depended on this man | |
to guard its liquid dough. | |
Of course if he just took a seat, | |
550 | relaxed his weary bones… |
The benefits outweigh the risks, | |
and no one’d have to know. | |
So sitting down, his eyes fell shut. | |
“What if I fall asleep?” | |
555 | he pondered in his dopey state |
as sleep began to creep. | |
“What if a robber comes this night, | |
armed with a pistol gun? | |
Then would I be awake to put | |
560 | that robber on the run? |
Asleep, I won’t be vigilant. | |
The thief would prance right in. | |
He’d march up to our giant safe, | |
then empty it and grin. | |
565 | There’d be a noise, the lock would crack, |
within the riches shine. | |
He’d fill his bag, then he’d be off | |
to live a life refined.” | |
The guard recoiled and then he thought: | |
570 | “What if my eyes did close |
and into slumber I descend, | |
a deep and happy doze? | |
What if a crazy man then comes | |
and threatens with a bomb? | |
575 | He holds me hostage for the cash – |
his sanity long gone. | |
He yells aloud, sets off alarms. | |
Soon news crews do arrive, | |
and pictures of me ‘round the world | |
580 | show uniformed man cry. |
The bomber man has no demands, | |
for all he wants is fame. | |
He shouts out Boom! and spins his gun, | |
prolongs his twisted game. | |
585 | Policemen offer deals to him, |
but bomber won’t have that. | |
He knows his life is forfeit now | |
so counts down his attack. | |
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four… | |
590 | My end is nearer now. |
Light flashes! Forceful heat explodes!” | |
Guard wakes, and wipes his brow. | |
“Okay,” he says, “I should not sleep. | |
I’ve got to do my task | |
595 | or awful things made in my dreams |
might truly come to pass.” | |
But then a worse, more fearful thought | |
began to overtake. | |
Reflecting on his awful dreams: | |
600 | “What if I were awake?” |