A WRITER’S POEM (ODE TO THE PEN)

What is it about a pen

For those who love to write

That opens possibilities

For stories to take flight?

And what is a story really?

But retelling who we are

In a way that reaches people

Both up close and far

A writer is consumed

With all the things he wants to say

It sits with her all day and night

In a very curious way

The stories show up everywhere

If only you could see

They show up as flashing images

That come and go quickly

The stories show up everywhere

Even in his dreams

There is no way around it

But to let them go, it seems

A writer knows there’s no escape

She can but only write

Expressing, baring all her soul

In the darkness of the night

The love affair between a pen

And a writer is a bond

That echoes through the pages

And a timelessness beyond

A keyboard or a feathered pen

Or ink or tap tap tap

The instrument itself

Is like a present to unwrap

What is it about a pen

For those who love to write

That opens possibilities

For stories to take flight?

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