Ink's song

Part of me was always fluid

Blue and truly flowing

Part of me was always vivid

Copious and bottled

Part of me was always damp

Dark and brooding

Part of me was always mottled

Musty yet powerful

Part of me was dry drab

Dragging around words

Part of me was always sitting

On the nib of pointy uncertainties

And then fine day, sprung forth a thought

Interlacing my being around her

Tugging at my anxious corners

Cajoling me out of dried out emotions

Bursting forth in a fecund spring

Nourishing nurturing the wells within

Oh what joy to dance along

To be in a writer’s pen

To be the fine blue ink in her happy song!