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1. 

   SwimBoy
   Member

   Carvel  (Type of wooden boat construction)

    

    Ribs not bone white

          but oak-brown, reveal shape that was

          and will be. Start at belly,

         add plank after cedar plank ─ skin smooth.                                                                                                        

    

   I scan 25 feet of fair wood

          sheer strake ─ the profile

          swooping from bow,

          every inch just so, curves to stern.

    

   Blade kisses sharpening stone,

          figure eight movements mimic the infinite,

          shave hairs off  back of my hand, its sharp enough.

          Plane’s oak handle a perfect fit.

    

   Wood sings with each blade pass,

          grains reverse, reverse again, I follow.

          Callous knots resist  

          my hands caress.

    

   Freshly planed wood infused with my touch.

           Shavings mound on wood floor

           in aromatic flourish, 

           my boots shovel this new fallen snow.

    

   Scented linseed oil moistens her skin,

          touch her smooth, complex shape,

                her nice belly, her fine entrance, her tapered stern.

    

   She, always she. We connect with last touch,

          never again see her,

   never again feel her,

    

   She was never meant for me

               another takes her,

                           I turn back to my empty shop.

    

   Bill Highsmith-04

   Posted 7 years ago #
2. 

   ThisTripIsNecessary
   Member

   Sort of like raising kids and sending them them out into the world.  Nice.

   Wouldn't it be nice to build in solid clean wood and hear the constant shriiinng! of the plane blade?  Sadly most of my boat building has gone like this:

   The dust up the nose is a terror,

   it stains the snot brown or black;

   perhaps 'twas this season's error

   to miserly un-purchase the mask

   that cost a hundred-plus dollars,

   a burden not proper to ask,

   since I support the economy's failing

   with so many other things tasked

   to get the boat in the water,

   to get my ass on the sea,

   to watch the rig tilt and totter

   in waves driving the boat to the lee,

   a new anchor to stop us from drifting

   to the rocks that threaten my paint,

   the new paddle I thoughtfully ordered

   and lost over the side; my complaint

   is not so much the expenses

   that maintain my life in arrears

   and always infiltrate my senses

   with the world and how it appears;

   my friend I surely lost track

   of what I'm complaining about,

   one thing I learned is a fact:

   living is costing a lot, no doubt;

   so 'pick your poison' they say,

   my choice is epoxy to lay

   on the sides of the boat that will be

   soon keeping the ocean at bay,

   and bringing the adventure of living

   within the embrace of the day. 

   Posted 7 years ago #

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