Paper Never Refuses Ink - Poem by Annette Aitken
Paper Never Refuses Ink
I'm sat here in the garden armed
with paper and pen
The heat of the sun it burns my skin,
with pen, in hand, I try to begin
eyes unfocused from the glaring sun
reflecting heat rays that can burn.
Senselessly the letters flow
down onto paper words will grow
Ink escapes like little ants
make unsuspecting letters dance
then words again begin to flow
make something good for us to read or
meaningful words that flow with ease.
It's not the length of time it takes
if words are right or out of place
or if their good or even bad,
they make you happy, and also sad
as long as words continue to flow
Unless the ink runs out, of course.
There is one rule of thumb to think.
That's, ' Paper never refuses ink '.
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