The workshop is closed!
The doors? They are locked!
The machines are all silent,
The timber? All stocked!

—

No sawing! No sanding!
No drilling! No cuts!
No welding! No clamping!
No tightening nuts!

—

The table saw sleeps
(it’s not making a peep!)
The router? It’s resting!
The clamps? In a heap!

—

No oak will be measured,
No walnut will fall,
No ash will be shaped
Into anything tall!

—

The glue stays in bottles,
The nails stay in tins,
The screws stay unturned,
And nobody wins!

—

Or DO they?

—

Because waiting is part
Of the making, you see—
The pause is as vital
As what’s yet to be!

—

The timber racks wait
With their oak and their pine,
They’re patient, they’re ready,
They know it’s just TIME.

—

The pencil marks linger
On benches of wood,
They whisper, “We’ll be back
To make something GOOD!”

—

So the workshop sits empty,
It’s dark and it’s still,
But come January Second?
Oh BOY, what a thrill!

—

The saws will go SCREAMING!
The sanders will WHINE!
The clamps will clamp CLAMPING!
The makers will SHINE!

—

They’ll make you a table
That’s perfect and true!
They’ll build you a chair
That was MADE just for you!

—

They’ll cut and they’ll carve
And they’ll sand and they’ll stain,
They’ll make custom pieces
Again and AGAIN!

—

Because that’s what we do
At this place that you’ve found—
We CHANGE EVERYTHING
When the new year comes round!
—

So the workshop sits quiet.
The darkness. The cold.
But January Second?
The making unfolds.