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Array
(
[sid] => 88638
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Woods of Paisley Brand
[time] => 2005-03-24 20:13:57
[hometext] => And the tale continues on
[bodytext] => The Woods of Paisley Brand The artisan trod on a warm spring day To the woods of Paisley Brand Forest dark and filled with fear These frightened not the child with goal This be the tale of Paisley Brand A sprightly lass in early teens Of flowering time in her maiden years Oh, yes the fate of Paisley Brand She traveled deep into the woods To search for mistletoe to woo a lad Her trail was lost and she be too Her pixie ways to never see again This darling girl, sweet Paisley Brand The woods were searched for days on end Neither sight nor scent of our dulcet child Whence came the name these woods so dark And of the girl who tarried there For the girl who loved a lad and mistletoe So be the mark for Paisley brand The artisan traveled deep into the woods These woods named Paisley Brand He was in search of the perfect tree Tall and straight rich with age Whence finally he found that stalwart tree A maple full few limbs or bough With axe in hand and cross-buck saw He cut and swung with all his might The tree did bend and finally fall He chose the finest parts The parts and turns of knots be none He pitched the log upon his cart Then in haste he made for town at dusk When arriving at his little shop With a masters touch and artists eye He sat and admired with delicate stroke He touched and felt her every curve For days the log sat in repose Awaiting the cut and swirl of tool He waited until the time was right For age, and water to disperse Then with ample thrust And marksman’s aim Did split the log at proper turn A crack and split she opened up The diamond cutters eye was correct This maple opened her heart and soul The maple from Paisley Brand Another crack another split Soon the pieces were all in place He laid them out in there time of task First the seat of rive and dowel Glued and sanded to satin sheen The legs of vertical grain Perfect, straight, and true Each one a clone upon the next For days and nights the task went on The curve of rails to steam and bend This took thrice week And even then so long to dry Now with oil and softest cloth To polish, wait and or’ again At last, she stood with prideful eye This chair of love and stories too To know his work did truly stand With honor to the woods of Paisley Brand Sir Byron Scott arrived that day To relieve of the artisan his commissioned piece As the chair, which rocked, did leave his door A fond farewell to a cherished task Sir Scott did love his newest chair He would rock for hours the nights and days With pipe in hand and book open wide Reading the tale of Paisley Brand He passed away in his rocking chair With book in hand and pipe awry Good night my Paisley Brand The chair was sold when her Lady Scott did pass away The chair and its sheen from Sir Byron Scott As well the artisan’s oil and cloth Mr. Farnsworth admired and cared for the chair As well, he should this chair in its grace From all that he has heard and known So it sits in his study a place by itself For the grandeur and style Have not lost there charm For years it has staid and been in this home Not tarnished or marred but simply to be His evenings spent with fire and logs Toddy with cream and bride at his side A stately place for Paisley Brand While the chair told it tale of life and dreams The dreams of those who have sat The dreams of those with another on mind Or perhaps of a youth not spent in best way But the ages and parlors who have seen Would be all but displeased at its new berth Relinquished to an attic with webs and dust For years sight unseen midst clutter and garb Till one day a young lass curious and naïve Did visit this attic of relics and charms There in the corner so all forlorn Sat the chair of a past in hopes be reborn She gathered it up and lit down the stair To the parlor in glee With cloth and oil she polished and shined Till the impressions of age shone once again Sir Scott’s hind parts Mr. Farnsworth’s own too And she wondered the tales of its travels and woes Her studies and questions led back to the time When a craftsman gone by Did journey the woods of Paisley Brand [comments] => 4 [counter] => 160 [topic] => 25 [informant] => newewe [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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