The Pen Is Never Alone Poem by Peter S. Quinn

If you're thought is paper worth
With words from inside grown
That your heart gave birth
Like seagulls in the sky
They fly along to sea
And every wings way try
To reach out far and be

Precious is every stone
That on your road lies
Like every true players tone
That your harp tries
There is so much that lingers
If feelings are the same
With inside touching fingers
To give your hope a flame

Oh take your height to hold
To mount the highest hill
And each experience unfold
So those steps will fulfill