What is it we do when we write?
What causes our words to spring to life?
Just combinations of english words,
can be laced togeher,
some graceful thoughts that may be preserved forever.

Our feelings, lessons,
words may deliver.
With our touch, they may flow and shine like a river.
Taking memories almost out of grasp,
setting into muddled pasts.
These have the fraility,
of butterfly wings,
blissfully,
wishing to slip away,
to flitter off as they may,
leaving a soft glowing trail of their presense,
in our minds.

We use all of our "quirk"
to look around the world which we work.
We may not always succeed,
but we try,
to find with a keen eye,
a topic that has not always been discussed.

We tend to convey,
in our own kind of way,
what we love,
what we look for,
something to identify with,
or root for.
Or we make our little world,
in a book,
that is brand new!