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There was this frugal rich man who
Hired a poor artisan to build his porch.
With the project now done
And the artisan gone
He took to it a torch.
He was so distraught,
That he could not,
He, himself restrain
When his whole mansion crashed down around him
He went fitfully insane.
With only the porch now standing
The rich man had no one to blame
The artisan delivered what he wanted
With that he could not complain.
He believed himself quite charitable
When he so righteously hired this man,
But he also wanted a castle
While paying this man with sand.
The artisan was poor by circumstance
And not because he was a fool.
So he took some of the timbers beneath the house
And made the porch a jewel.
If the rich man had only paid enough for materials
Things would not have reached this stage,
But that's what the rich man thought he did;
He was just skimping on the poor man's wage.
Between the rich man's greed
And the artisan's pride
An impossible deal was made.
If the artisan delivered any less than expected
He knew he would never get paid.
So he kept his pride and did his best
And gave the rich man his due.
What the rich man got,
For free he thought,
Was the handiwork of a craftsman true.
Out there among all the rubble
The porch now primly stood.
A monument to the artisan
Who did the best he could.
The rich man had no recourse
For he had to avenge his pain
So he banished that taunting monument
By sending it up in flame.
Now the rich man had nothing
But the artisan still had his pride
For he showed the world what he could do
When pride and greed collide.
Artisan & Author:
Robert Francis Hauck Jr.
©1998 |
