| |
|
An excerpt
In the morn when the keen blade bites the tree,
And the chips on the dead leaves dance,
And the bush echoes back right merrily
Blow for blow as the sunbeams glance
From the axe when it sweeps in circles true,
Then the splitter at heart is gay;
He exults in the work he’s set to do,
And he feels like a boy at play.
This poem is in the public domain.
|
Edward Dyson (1865 – 1931) was an Australian writer. Son of a mining engineer, he and his brothers worked for a time as truckers, miners, and laborers, but all eventually pursued careers in the arts. A magazine editor, novelist, short story writer, playwright, and poet, Edward earned an excellent living from his writing. He juggled multiple projects on an ongoing basis and was known for being meticulously organized.
|
|
Wilda Morris:
Love it!
Posted 11/30/2022 11:51 AM
|
Larry Schug:
I've been heating my house with firewood for fifty years. I truly appreciate how skillfully the poem captures the the ceremonial rite of act of splitting wood with wedge and maul. The poem's brevity is a strength.
Posted 11/28/2022 09:01 PM
|
Michael:
To have earned an "excellent" living from his writing is saying something for this fine wordsmith . . . few can tout having made an "excellent" living from the arts!!
Posted 11/28/2022 11:53 AM
|
cork:
When I split wood in a Weyerhaeuser mill chipper room, no chips flew.
Posted 11/28/2022 09:46 AM
|
paradea:
What great rhythm and rhyming in this poem!! Love to read it aloud!!!
Posted 11/28/2022 09:17 AM
|
Darrell Arnold:
Physical work in the great outdoors IS fulfilling and rewarding, especially if you are young, and able, and full of vitality. Mr. Dyson's poem expresses how I felt, back in the days when I earned my way in the world with axe and saw and hammer and shovel. I'll never regret those splendid days when I went to sleep worn out from my labors, but feeling good about it.
Posted 11/28/2022 08:42 AM
|
|
|
|
|
My Cart 
