The Ink In Think Poem by Bud Taylor

New beginnings spent
whittling pencils in English class bent
laying down copy of the 'road not taken'
doodling a tall-treed wood copy making

Casting long-held glances down paths pondered
working oodles of doodles into mind and meaning
each Monday spent from hearth to Mountain leaning
weeks long toil at work bench crafting

Seated again classes went, friends over hot coffee spent
pondering youthful minds soaring over doodles poring
How now these talents foster?
When fine paper awaits the ink in think boldly