My Words, My Joys
When rain falls thick and wet, when sun shines bright and free,
I stand with pen, sit with journal, balanced on my knee.
When mood is dark, black and gray, when mood is light and nice,
I find words that feel good, that fit the atmosphere just right.
I write them down to preserve the times, the memories that I want to keep.
These letters that make words, mean so much to me.
Just words to many, gifts of mine to me, description is oh, such a powerful thing.
Task to some, art to me, pleasurable, amazing, take me on a journey.
Live to record these happenings, live to share with others, my words,
Speaking is nothing, not important in my life, not aloud anyway,
The words I scratch into paper do all my talking, tell what goes through my head.
The ink that bleeds from my pen describe my feelings, every tear I shed.
No other thing so grand, so special and so right,
My words, my pictures I make with letters, they take thy readers on flight,
o’ lands of fantastic magic, with characters more daring than all,
My scriptures, my versus, my words, special, honorable, call to all,
send messages to beings that are lost, so lost,
are helped, are saved, by the words I write.
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