I Move the Ink
Father I ask you to use me
As a tool, an instrument, or a link
So I may write your precious words
Or to move the pen with the remainder of the ink.
A phrase, a paragraph, or a line
Will often come into my mind
And the urge to write it down at once,
Will often become the first of many lines.
I may find a title
In the last verse that is read
Or it may be the first one
Like this one instead.
Brenda Elizabeth Rose
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