The Ruby-Ic's Cube

She comes in colors. Rearranges herself at will. Masterful pen. And a mind never still. As imaged in my mind, The Rube with a doob in her left hand Merlot in her right, Penning her heart out, All through the night... Artist painting with words, Colors she invents herself, Every now and then a little humor, Like a mischievous elf... And so many love her, And so glad she is back... Especially me, This old poetic hack.