Frank Colson on thu 24 dec 09
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THE
NIGHT OF THE FIRING
"Twas the night of the firing and all through the shop
The kiln stood a-waiting, shelves filled to the top
Some pots were glazed with bright Copper Blue,
Others with Celadon, "Sang de Boeuf" too
Suddenly out on the road there appears,
A large propane truck with a big bunch of gears
The driver jumps out and hooks up my tank,
The air fills with propane - which smelled kinda rank
The stars glitter brightly on this windless night
I candle the burners, then tweak them just right.
Visions of glazes dance in my head,
Blue- greens and mustards, choocolate and red
I sleep a few hours, then turn up the flame.
I sleep a bit more, then repeat the same
The kiln now is glowing the color of fire
I doze for a while, then turn the flames up higher
Im way too excited to go back to sleep.
I pace 'round the room, I peep in the peep
The hands of the clock move ever so slow,
When finally - oh, FINALLY - Cone five bends down low
Praise be to Kiln Gods: praise them on high!
I see a meteor crossing the sky
I crank up the heat, flames dance in the flue
Would this firing be perfect, too good to be true?
My dragon was spitting ribbons of flame,
I open the damper, those ribbons to tame
Reduction would happen, reds were assured,
More beautiful even than I had conjured!
I open the studio, stare at the sky
To witness the Southern Cross rising on high
The night was fading away to the sun
Cone Ten gave a bow, my firing was done.
Inside that kiln were treasures galore
2009 Christmas was worth waiting for!
-FRANK COLSON-
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