wild words he grasps

plucked from the air

thrust in the forge

he holds them there

 white with heat

as beat on beat

thought and perspiration meet

 quenched with ink

and fixed in lines

they once ran wild

but now combine

to tell tall tales

at hearts they tug

they soar and sail

and hate and love

hold a mirror

light the dark

tell the truth

make their mark

and though the Smith runs out of time

eternal shall live on his rhyme