Word Worker

Word Worker

The tools of my trade clutter no wooden bench or truck seat.
They are many and diverse.
Some well worn and decidedly familiar to the touch, others yet to even be unwrapped, for the proper situation has yet to present, and they be used in the manner intended.
I know where they all are, my tools, yet often have difficulty finding just the right one.
Sure, many are multipurpose, but the right one, in the right place, at the right time, is what distinguishes the apprentice from the master, and a master is what I yearn to be.
So I fumble through my tools, spending whatever time I must, to lay my hand on the right one. Once found my job proceeds again almost effortlessly, until I once again require that certain tool.
I hope one day to have used them all and often.
I hope their use will be appreciated by those who see the finished works.
I hope my efforts are not for nothing, or that I am chasing the wind.
It is said that if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life.
I have all the tools; I'd even buy the hat, if I could only be known as a word worker, a writer.