Poetry

Wednesday, 15 April 2026

A canny mason

 He was a canny mason

Very good with stone

He even carved a basin

For my very home

 I knew him as a greyson

But he soon showed other tones

He wasn't just in shades of grey

But black and white and brown


Oh he was a canny mason

And built all the buildings in town

Carved and hewn the face on

Every facade of regal crown

Mermaids on the balustrades

Lions on the coronet

Ask him not of gunpowder plots

He'll likely hew you from the neck down


But buy him a sack of wine

Let him weigh the stone in his palm

He'll tell where and how to place it in

The wall 

Then they'll all fall down

on the farm



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