So lucky is the paper you write on
It gets a frequent touch of your hand
How I wish I was the ink in your pen
To write out the thoughts of your mind
Dear Poet am in love with your words
I wish they were my own
If not written with me in mind
Only for my eyes
I love how you tell your tales
With words that pleads
Even with a whisper
So full of sincere
So lucky is the paper you write on
For you mark it with you ink of affection
Wetting it with your emotions
Turn it over with tenderness
I wish twas my heart you writing on
With an ink that never fades
Implanting eternal feelings
Within hardened covers
I love your lines of verses
They sing a soothing song
Oh let alone your thousand voices
They speak to me in the still of the night
Write on hands on the poet, write on
Page the petals of my heart, write on
Dare not leave any sweet word untold
Tell me all that my heart ought to be told
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is the truth about poetry and poets. nice poem.