By Scott Bailey © 2014
Hard, cold and grey
Dull and unreflective
Sharpened for weapons of war
Blunted for tools of toil
Yet there is more
Glowing in the forge
Twisted into marble patterns
Delicate chains and swirls
Mounts for jewels
Brooches for queens
Pins and forks and hooks
A myriad of ideas were born
Flowing from use to form
New forms growing fast
The sword fights, the lock defends
The cauldron holds the feast
Times of war and growth of lore
Times of great halls a roaring
Look past the iron-grey mist of time
To see the colours flower

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams