They call you
Tongue speaking the utterances
Of the mind and soul
Giving form to the machinations
Of the intellect
Prints to abstract ideas
Like flowering plants
It is said
To hold a ✒️ is
To be at war
It is true is it not ?
With your sister the brush
Being the arms of expression
Letting lose the minds of men
Dancing thoughts put on paper
That magic wand you make possible
Spinning tales and stories
Fascinating child and adult alike
Eyes to books like bees to nectar
When all is said and done
Words will linger
Styled by the mighty ✒️
Cradling future offspring in thought
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