The Loveliness of Ink...

above lines from the book The Wind That Shakes the Barley by James Barke

one poem... or four

Come, take thy pen and press to page the loveliness of ink

And spill upon its open stage some poetry to drink

The dust of days soon settles on Bygone’s grave-stilted loam

But ah, the law of pen to page is ageless in a poem

***

If I must choose twixt thee and the perusal of a pen

Methinks I might, against my will, be torn twixt ink and men

For flesh is but a flicker on the quicker side of This

A poem like a love that never dies while Time exists

***

Come, take between thy trembling fingers loveliness to be

And spell with ink-fraught quivers thy undying legacy

Then when thou passest from this little riddle-riddled glance

The lover of thy poetry will weep and laugh and dance

***

The grave is but the haven for people that are no more

Soon what we touch will scatter like stars on a far-off shore

Save for the loveliness of ink that seals upon a page

A poem for someone to drink in some far yonder age

© Janet Martin