Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Casey- The Sculpter

Magic hands
milking shapes from space,
Heart creation
mirrored in the face.
Ancient tools,
sweet sweat, flair and skill
strive together
shaping heron bill.
Raw material,
ancient branch and bough,      
Twisted mass
for vision’s furrowed brow.
Phoenix shape
emerging from the elm,
Transformation sailing,
genius at the helm.
Living beauty                  
carved from nature’s dead,
past and present

sharing common bed.                           
Five millennia
resurrected new,
Vision’s pleasure;
oak and gleaming yew.           
Wondrous space,
on Barley Harbour hill,
Casey’s place,
where master labours still.


(Dedicated to Michael Casey, the greatest wood sculptor in the world)


  1. Studio of light! This poem reads like the bark of a sturdy tree. Decisive, rugged simplicity -- expansive and inspiring. One can almost smell the wood.