At the Forge

Hammer hard.
Fire bright.
Pounding metal
With all my might.

Orange gleaming ore
Glowing hot.
Shaped by hand
Quenched by draught.

Hell's own heat
Makes air singe.
Burning embers
On firey fringe.

Muscles worn
To the bone.
Sword well shaped
with fine hone.

Reviews

[Audrey Howitt]

I can hear the clanging sound of metal upon metal in the sound of the poem's words. So well done! There is a natural flow to the sound of the words for you I think!

[Francesca]

This is a very original concept and the images you use are very vivid. I feel like I'm in a furnace! You have a nice, varied vocabulary and great structure.
Some suggestions: If you want the period at the end of every other line, then take away the period at the end of the first line. Also, the third line of every stanza describes an action, like "Pounding metal", "Shaped by hand", "Burning embers", and "Making old", but then Razor edge is just a noun. I don't know how much you care about consistency, but if you do, you can try finding a way to make that line fit with the rest. And I saw one typo: should be fiery instead of firey.
Great write :) You're really talented.

[Richielee]

I thought i was there,superb descriptive language with a lovely rhyme scheme.well done judy

[Coyote Poetry]

Powerful description and I could feel the heat. The hard work done by men and woman is strong in the words. A excellent poem.
Coyote

[poetry-kiddo alienbaba]

Hot!!
I know...i have seen ...
keep on writing ...poetry Queen:)