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.
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