(For Avellina, on her birthday)
***
She’s a master of her skill.
Within her hand, the quill,
Is like an extension of her arm
Bringing joy to her heart
As her masterpiece she starts.
Her soul cannot stay contained.
As her mind is unchained,
Her thoughts seep out,
Writing the night throughout,
The ink expressing all,
As she keenly scrawls.
Her pen tells the tale,
And when her masterpiece is unveiled,
The readers soak up her words
With an insatiable thirst-
Understanding,
Knowing,
Guessing,
What she meant.
She has a connection with the readers
Only writing will create.
And long after she is gone,
Her writing will long live on.
She will be immortal.
For on the parchment, she leaves her soul.
“For on the parchment she leaves her soul.” Truer words were never spoken. (That line gave me chills!)
Lovely poem, Rae-Rae! And of course, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Rosaria Marie!!!!:-)
Thank you so much, Rae-Rae! I am so honored by this very special birthday poem from the heart! You, too, fit the description of the Poet to a tee, and you bless everyone around you with your creativity, especially through the medium of writing, where on the parchement, you leave your soul.
Also, thank you Kat and Meredith for the birthday wishes!!