Ink-Smiths

 

Yesterday's chores included reorganizing and tidying book nooks!

Oh joy! Why?

I made room for more😅

The ink-memento below was forged from the poet's perspective

With ink they praise

With ink they weep

With ink they groan and grin

And purge with phrase

What cannot sleep

Beneath a shroud of skin

With ink they love

With ink they thrill

With ink they try and try

To snare glints of

An escadrille

That marches through a sigh

With ink they pray

And beg and brood

Where heartache’s millstones press

The gold and gray

Of gratitude

Into scarred happiness

With ink they cry

With ink they smile

While forging cons with prose

To pacify

And reconcile

The thorns beneath the rose

With ink they wield

Thoughts tools of trade

Where parchment anvils bear

 Whispers soft-steeled

Against the blade

That fells fields of thin air 

  

© Janet Martin