Dear Pen,

on draft you linger high above a paper moat.
and coax the words out blindly
without a clue to what is wrote.

To you, Paper,

to please the eye you take the ink
translating the translucent
things I think.

To the reader,

perhaps the ear would hear it best
but tis the heart I seek to bless
what's in my pen comes from the breast.

01/05/2005