Great table with blades ablure
which severs wood from wood
and makes great boards into shrunken planks,
such a void is there in life without thee.
Projects, long put aside for want of thy blade,
pile up in dusty corners and along crowded walls;
thier voices cry out for completion
that only thy masterful mechinisum can provide.
The Jig and Scroll lack they acuracy,
and the mighty Miter is set skew
when thy glistening teeth are brought forth
Raised from within thy bowels.
Yes, predominant power tool,
immense is thy size and great is my need.
Oh, how plane and unproductive is my art without thee.
I await your coming, consument cutter.
And when you art come to my home
shouts of "finaily, I can finish this!"
Will ring through the air like
the peel of bells upon the New Years day.
I think I need to get out more.