Grand! The mighty feather tears a flurried wind cross the page,
tip of quill enticed to drink, and drunken pours it out in rage!
Rips the fabric white in arcs that smolder in the drying!
Dips its nose again to sneer, and smears emotions in the trying.
Pen in thoughtless hand so stained and blotted by the pain within,
against its will is forced to kill the very page with sin.
Seduced in errant commas, gastric spelling of acrid words,
then bends to touch the love therein with gentle kiss of humming birds.
Then splash! Again is wrought in flurried panic fanfare.
Scratches out a misplaced phrase and stands amidst the blotch to stare…
And there the heart is landed, softly in a sudden thought,
that to the page the pen, in grace, pours a drop of love there wrought.
Tis nothing short of miracle, tis nothing less than mad,
but through the pen and paper, the hand dispelled its core of “sad”.
So the page in smoking honey, grants the pen and quill a rest,
gives the binder’s due in running scratch and scrawl so acquiesced.
Down the pen, corked the well,
closed the book and candle shelled.
Peace… at last.
9 responses to “The Mighty Quill”
Grand & vivid my love!
Thank you sweetheart!
And so I love it yet again, once more. Find words, truly.
And thank you once more. 🙂
My attention was spooled in by the antiquity of the power that setting on paper the spirit and soul… I felt the quill and the paper’s texture; The wax-odor of burning flame surrounding me~ Exquisite writing !
Thanks Deb! I see myself in this odd state sometimes, as if I’m just holding the pen, and the soul takes flight… the pen and paper suffer until something stirs in me that it is right. And then I’m done…
Thank you for sharing. I love it. Your writing is exquisite.
Thanks! I appreciate your kind remarks…
Reblogged this on INK AND QUILL and commented:
‘The Mighty Quill’ by Jay Blue Poems. Such beauty and exquisiteness in his writing.