Ode To The Ageless Builders

Early in the morn,
When the dew and the frost still linger in the air,
We are up with hammer and tools in hand,
To form and shape what we will from hill and land.

We are the builders,
The makers,
The trenchers and roofers,
Men and women who strike the forms and cap the rafters.

From dirt and gypsum, sand and rock,
From wood and timber hewed and wrought,
We erect the towers and stand the walls,
We shape the foundations and raise the halls.

We are the builders,
Sons of fathers,
Daughters and mothers.

Our trade is timeless,
Our skill goes beyond the ages,
Where others may fade and die,
We are yet always there reaching to the sky.

We are the builders,
Stone and wood be our goods and fuel,
With these we forge the bastions to brave life’s constant duel.

The sun glints off steel and stone put there by our very own,
Golden and bronze towers, steeped roofs and rounded domes,
Our works do not always endure the ceaseless attacks of time and man,
But assured be you, we’ll be up at dawn with tools in hand to build it all again as best we can.

~ Real Laplaine