Cona Adams Poet Free verse

Privileged Pencil

Guided by the writer's hand
it skates across page after page,
in complete abandon, 
relishing the journey.

A short visit now and then 
to the cut of the blade,
its red-lacquered coat 
shredded to shavings.

Down to the nub, its eraser gone,
a last soft gasp,
a Frisbee fling into the trash.

Its life springs forth
each time a reader
walks through the pages.

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Richard Poor January 4, 2015 at 12:14 PM very good...I personally use bics...but you captured the pens thought... Cona Adams January 4, 2015 at 12:47 PM Thank you, Richard. I actually start with a pencil, but usually chuck it half-way through the poem to type and revise on the computer.

Robert Stoner Jr November 15, 2014 at 9:18 AM humm this one set my mind to spinning through many variations of life eternal in other matters,thanks. success you reached me :o) Cona Adams January 4, 2015 at 12:49 PM Thank you, Robert. I appreciate every comment from other poets. I am always glad to touch someone with a poem.

Eve Roper November 14, 2014 at 4:44 PM :) 7 , don't throw this one away Cona Adams November 15, 2014 at 6:04 AM Thank you so much, Eve, for taking the time to visit, read, and comment. Much appreciated.

Gry Christensen November 14, 2014 at 4:38 PM A truly lovely and interesting write. Cona Adams November 15, 2014 at 6:07 AM Thank you, Gry. Now, I am coming over to read your work.

Jan Allison November 14, 2014 at 4:23 PM beautifully portrayed Cona:-) hugs jan xxx Cona Adams November 14, 2014 at 4:37 PM Thank you, Jan. I once wrote an essay entitled "Fifty Years to the First Sale." The nice thing about poetry soup, is that you don't get any rejection slips.

Dorian Petersen Potter November 14, 2014 at 4:22 PM Very wonderfully penned Cona! Enjoyed it my dear friend. :) love and light! xxxxx D Cona Adams November 14, 2014 at 4:35 PM Thank you, Dorian. I kept trying to get something published in ByLines Magazine, but it never happened. The trick seems to be, never give up.