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Daily Journey

Monday, July 18, 2011

The Touch Of The Master's Hand

This is one of my favorite poems.

Actually I have lots of favorite poems.
Some touch me more than others.
I have always loved this one.
I can relate so to this poem.
If you ever have felt like you weren't worthy then I'm sure you may relate to this poem as well.
You may have already seen it and read it.
But it is one that is always worth sharing again and again.
It is a classic in my book!

As I am traveling today heading home from my lovely visit with my family.
I will have lots to share.
I felt very worthy there and felt the Auctioneer got his moneys worth while there.
Never quite long enough though.

Enjoy the read!


Battered Violin

The Touch of the Master's Hand

It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"
But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.
"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.
The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."
And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.
But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.

~Myra Brooks Welch~

Have you ever been to an auction?

1 comment:

Susie Swanson said...

this is a beautiful poem and the meaning is even more beautiful. I've never read it before. Thanks for sharing and have a safe trip back..Susie