With the
Miracle of paper
And parchment
And stone
Think of all the things
We would not know
If ink and paint and blood
Had not stained vellum
And canvas
And skin
History and fantasy
And love lost
And found
The poems and plays
And battles
Of nations triumphant
And ruined
Lords and their Ladies
Beggars and theives
The bard
And the Muse
All hidden and stored
In shoeboxes
Stuffed with envelopes
Of confessions
And truth
Bounded by hand and stich
Between hard leather covers
Countless pages
That have survived
The relentless sands
Of time
And foul weather
And flood
Long after our flesh
Has rotted and feed the worm
And our bones have
Dissipated to earth and gust
Paper will still
Hold the secrets
And history
Of love
The miracle of paper
Stained by the pen
moved to dance
In my hand
As I scrawl your name
And confess
I Love You
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 5:22 AM UTC
With the
Miracle of paper
And parchment
And stone
Think of all the things
We would not know
If ink and paint and blood
Had not stained vellum
And canvas
And skin
History and fantasy
And love lost
And found
The poems and plays
And battles
Of nations triumphant
And ruined
Lords and their Ladies
Beggars and theives
The bard
And the Muse
All hidden and stored
In shoeboxes
Stuffed with envelopes
Of confessions
And truth
Bounded by hand and stich
Between hard leather covers
Countless pages
That have survived
The relentless sands
Of time
And foul weather
And flood
Long after our flesh
Has rotted and feed the worm
And our bones have
Dissipated to earth and gust
Paper will still
Hold the secrets
And history
Of love
The miracle of paper
Stained by the pen
moved to dance
In my hand
As I scrawl your name
And confess
I Love You
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