Some of you I saw in my crib; those brightly colored shapes.
Who knew how close we would become through words and printed page?
How clever these twenty six close friends seem to me  right now.
They can answer my every question; be it when, where, why or how.
Near infinite is thy variety in your mix of shapes and sounds.
In you every Indo-European language can be found.
Like a linguistic DNA you take on varied forms
From age to age you morph, through slang, until you are reborn.
You are like the Phoenix rising glorious from the ash.
You are a friend to Every man who journeys to the past..
You are printed, you are digital, you are spoken on the stage.
Without you Love itself is mute and blank remains this page.
You have proven all good friends to me. I hope I’ve served you well.
(My punctuation is sometimes questionable but I’ve mastered how to spell.)