By Tom D Blakely
I visited the Silversmith
To watch him at his work.
He held some silver in the fire
I watched him heat it up.
He told me that the heat was strong
To burn away the dross,
But if the flame became too hot
The silver would be lost.
I asked him if he had to stay
And sweat before the fire?
He said the silver needed watched
He could not leave it there.
I asked how long the process took
And how he knew to cease?
Till like a mirror, I can see
The image of myself!
‘He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver…’