He was six when he had the urge to make,
A sculpture from metal as a small keepsake,
As a gift for his beloved mother,
A beautiful necklace like no other.
As he matured, his fascination grew,
And he knew full well what he wanted to do,
He longed to work with metal for the rest of his days,
In the most unusual and bespoke of ways,
As Lorimer to a wealthy squire,
Making pieces of harness as he required,
He forged beautiful stirrups and handmade bits,
With every ounce of his skill and wits,
His fame travelled far and quite rightly so,
For he could kit out a horseman from head to toe.