Axe Swing, Past Present Future - A Poem

From a wooly mahogany flannel follow through,

Pinus Cembra in fruitful abundance flowed like glacial excretion;

Wood, scattered as starlings mid-murmuration, permeated into echelons of utility.

The lumber settled like Scotch-aged moments amongst the fleeing Adonis Blues.

Earth dusted callouses embrace carved hickory.

In an affinity locus symbolizing the need for one another;

Iron sifts through years of sturdiness with pleasantly redundant steady swings.

Transcendental asylum will blossom before the sky-hued bellflowers themselves,

Blending bullishly between each timber knot,

Bewilderment caught by prospective mountain goat thoughts with lighthouse luminosity and luster;

A lambent cluster of Alpen fantasies and vibrant hollowness.