Blemish

 

Stepping back to view his work,
The master craftsman duly gloats.
No other has the skill,
Perhaps none ever will.
Amidst this proud preening glee
He spots something as it should not be
A crack, a split a great divide,
A blemish on his statues side.
He grips his hair and shakes it out
Rubs his eyes and rubs his mouth
Selects a mallet and casts it down
Smashing the statue to the ground.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Limerick Writers' Centre

Supporting Literature, Arts and Culture in Limerick since 2008.

NUIG Writers' Society

NUIG's society for exploring each other's writing in a welcoming environment.

The Lacklustre Emporium

The strange ravings of Joshua Kenehan, writer, illustrator, student, madman.

%d bloggers like this: