When the quill seems all but empty,
It’s a fine faint line that each stroke brings,
Love and kinship that keeps it’s strong, gently flowing
There is no greater fiber to bind,
the glue, the nudge, the eternal hitch
The strength of the fibers holding true, carrying the words
like the bond that friendships do.
One letter then add another, before you know tis
strung together and bound to script
Word to word, each hand guiding til new.
When the wrist waivers and imagination stills
It’s then that we carry each others quill
When words seem farthest from your mind,
close your eyes and find us there in your heart
it’s right there, that’s where to start.

Phoenix Fiery BannerCopywrite


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