Poetic Light
A pen danced alone
Her ink dried fast
Quickly I was to throw in my cast
A strength well felt, mighty like a stone
She wept onto the paper, and letters took form
Many tears of ink fell, writing to a storm
Alas she bit the bait, I reeled her in she was sad
I took her in my keep, all night she did weep
I awoke to her fresh ink
Her strokes truly did make me think
And with a few stanzas she made my heart sink
Her style of writing is rare
I love to hold her, she makes me write
When I'm with her I feel so right
The moon shines to her memory
Again we dance, her ink spills
Her love, spoken or written my soul it fills
The paper runs out, we pause to the message it spelled love
She stands on the stage with no more ink falling, over is the night
She looks to me, and I say " may I have this dance"? She smiles in a poetic light
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