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My Tongue Is The Pen Of A Ready Writer
My tongue is the pen of a ready writer
My heart exhales in pure ecstasy
Fount of abundance
I write a thousand a mile
My pen strokes the sheet
Like a caress it singed
Ink dries up along the pages
As it drips darkened mysteries
My mind conceals a great matter
A torrent of words struggling for freedom
To find expression for it's wits and all
And relieve itself of this boredom
Corals scrape over my skin
Gravels graze me mercilessly
If I don't give in or yield
My soul's torment begins
Poured upon the plain pages
One line brushing casually
One bold stroke of calligraphy
The papyrus cries, "please, give me"
It's stapled and stamped
A Mark to begin the poetic journey
A satire sorrounding the author's story
One quote to inspire the philosophers theory
© Ruth Daniel
My heart exhales in pure ecstasy
Fount of abundance
I write a thousand a mile
My pen strokes the sheet
Like a caress it singed
Ink dries up along the pages
As it drips darkened mysteries
My mind conceals a great matter
A torrent of words struggling for freedom
To find expression for it's wits and all
And relieve itself of this boredom
Corals scrape over my skin
Gravels graze me mercilessly
If I don't give in or yield
My soul's torment begins
Poured upon the plain pages
One line brushing casually
One bold stroke of calligraphy
The papyrus cries, "please, give me"
It's stapled and stamped
A Mark to begin the poetic journey
A satire sorrounding the author's story
One quote to inspire the philosophers theory
© Ruth Daniel
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