A massive  muscular cheerful smith

Vast but nimblest smokedark hands

A red face gleaming in the flickering firelight

Wrapped in his stiff leather apron

The fire glowing as the bellows huffed and puffed

The clanging of his hammer on the anvil

As he beat the shoe into shape and size

Acrid smell of hot metal, then the hissssss

As he slipped the shoe in the cold water bucket

Dull thud of an irritated horse's hooves

Sulkily shifting its weight as he held up each foot

Then snort of relief from the mare

The last nail in and four feet now grounded

Through it all the joyful gurgling voice

Of the sparkling troutful burn behind the forge.