Its been too long since last I wrote
Through her fingers slow flows art divine
Each stroke of the pen leaves a glittering line
Transforming the parchment, no longer so plain
It mimics life’s wonders, in both joy and pain.
Throughout my journeys, there’s plenty I’ve seen
The people I’ve mett, the places I’ve been.
And yet no one things has put me to shame
As much as the lines on the parchment thought plain.
She paints away shields and masks in a stroke
Her pens soothing voice makes it too hard to cloak
The feelings I harbor and so want to show
With every pen stroke continue to grow.
She colors my day with her brush and her pen,
Every time they depart, I long for them again
The world without lines seems cluttered with gray
I wish my own pen stroke could make them stay.
Each stroke of the pen leaves a glittering line
Transforming the parchment, no longer so plain
It mimics life’s wonders, in both joy and pain.
Throughout my journeys, there’s plenty I’ve seen
The people I’ve mett, the places I’ve been.
And yet no one things has put me to shame
As much as the lines on the parchment thought plain.
She paints away shields and masks in a stroke
Her pens soothing voice makes it too hard to cloak
The feelings I harbor and so want to show
With every pen stroke continue to grow.
She colors my day with her brush and her pen,
Every time they depart, I long for them again
The world without lines seems cluttered with gray
I wish my own pen stroke could make them stay.