Sculptor Poems - Poems about Sculptor

The wood was perfect. Hammer in hand, he toiled. Sweat trickled down his neck. Her face was chiselled, A perfect portrait: The hawk-like nose, The high cheekbones, The wide brow. But not her flaring eyes. They defied him. In exasperation, he threw the lamp, His...Read the rest...

In chambers lit by candle's glow, A sculptor stands, with brow alight, Where visions grand begin to flow, From marble cold, a form takes flight. With hammer's tap and chisel's grace, He breathes life In chambers lit...Read the rest...

the angel on the mantel comes from an old wagon road that cuts from desert brush into the burnished hills where creosote breaks up and scatters at the base of the Chiricahuas where Fort Bowie Calvary slaughtered Apache...Read the rest...

I’m a bone sculptor the gorgeous man said, his name was Dean. I asked what does that mean? I had never heard of such a thing. An artist, I take bleached bones and make a fine scene. Thought...Read the rest...

Jerry and I were inseparable then straight and tall high school buddies we had it all. The girls favored him heart-melting smile the epitome of class the essence of style. But I won over a few 'twas only so much of him. I had sweet...Read the rest...

Water Sculptor Life stretches into abundant sheaths swelling with water, Living breath of the selfless servant cascades through veins Drawn into waterways of stalks and roots Reaching – climbing – filling - shaping Boughs of mighty oaks and agile...Read the rest...

Glacier! Icy, cold, hard. Diamond-like, it chisels the frosty landscape....Read the rest...

Time and events chisel and shape our lives, an unknown sculptor blue prints your life plan, a knock here, a cut there, we think ‘not fair’ we journey along through ridges and lairs, rewards flow in that we relish...Read the rest...

oh sculptures around ...Read the rest...

Midday sun burns. An iron chisel plays sad tunes on a stone. He enjoys prolonged chiseling. The granite conceives from his...Read the rest...

Master Sculptor, God Divine, Chisel upon this life of mine. Strike each blow with artisan care, Until the shape of Christ appears....Read the rest...

they say that life is but a shadow- play, and we mere lines, picked out by the light of day...Read the rest...

molding every word with bare hands putting pressure on every letter with thumbs that have their own minds shaping vowels of verbs from action to possessive and never using periods to keep the viewer always looking...Read the rest...

the gloom splattering the morning sculpting the void the life from the death...Read the rest...

Midday sun burns. An iron chisel plays sad tunes on a stone. He enjoys prolonged chiseling. The granite conceives from his...Read the rest...