In poet form we write our words,
As they dance around the page.
We marvel at the way they fit,
Stage.....By.....Stage.

A thought, a whisper,
A jog of memory understood.
We write of dreams and many things,
That our hearts think we should.

No one knows why we write,
Words for others to read.
A distant thought, of passion and desire,
Of someone Else's need.

The satisfaction; that we have,
Is knowing the joy of the words.
Will touch the harts of the reader,
And brighten up their world.