Sheets

June 10, 1998- yes that was the dawn Where a new book was born and in the pages you will see Clean sheets a paper can be. And in the years passed by Foot prints of the pens that tried In pages marked their arts As they partake with and without heart. In the pages of the book Are all the fossils it once had All the writings that were crooked The fine, the rough and all the sad. There were pages that were torn As the foot prints of the pens Left those poignant schemes Since the day 'twas born. But there were pens that have their hearts In surface pages they left the art The art of friendship 'neath the sun Strengthened in love and friendship bond. All the prowess of the wind Blow the pages of the book To the eighteenth surface it doth sends With a joy in a closer look.