There they stand
all bunched together
in a black coffee mug.
Most of them are the standard yellow,
but, one is red,
three are pale blue with yellow bunnies, and
two are green with pink hearts.
All have a proud pink nub on the top.
They gather stoically -
their potential
hidden in their innards,
waiting to be pointed towards
a thought.
They sit,
nonchalantly mute,
until grasped by
fingers with white tipped nails,
or
fingers with dirt-caked
knuckles.
It is amazing to watch
when
a pencil is
deliberately
picked up and aimed.
Somehow, without a cord,
or a memory card,
or one little megabyte,
magic begins
as pencil
meets
paper.
Mrs. Kemper, I wish I had sweet writing skills like you. This was an awesome poem! Good job!
hey mrs. k! ! good one! ! i love it! ! i finally got the hang of this program thing! ! : -) i love this poem though... you're good
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There's no wonder that you're a creative writing teacher. This is some primo stuff. This is a title poem, right? All I know is that your imagery, complimented by your attention to the minute details, forms a poem that I certainly will not forget for a long time. This is one of the greatest poems that I have ever read. You should definitely share this with the class as -your- literary thought ;) . Have you had this published yet, or tried to? I think, if you haven't yet, you should submit this, as this high of caliber poems don't get written often. Absolutely brilliant, Mrs. Kemper.