Best known for writing such words it scrawled in many languages inked out of hearts of
Poet’s politician’s clergy investment of mind and soul glided over parchment it would open
Doors of wood hinges were heard to creak when wise words were spoken and angry kings could
No longer hold freedom back after words of truth shined forth with wisdom and would not
Be denied by personnel greed and cruelty the very breath of man was infused in such
Documents that had veracity that was uncommon in nature the heights were noted the
Indignity and stupidity and rigidness that would in slave people was forever snapped no bonds
Could hold after the quill responded to such ignorance pleasantries were subscribed to by
Mortal hand that reached beyond uncertainty and touched divine sensibility it wrote on
Personnel levels in the case of widowhood when the dark curtains of loss were drawn and no
Light shined into the soul of the bereaved in the darkness a sister friend’s face slowly emerged
From the murky dark waters that sorrows flood brought in her embrace and understanding the
Quill wrote of a slow growing power a bridge was constructed over the river of nerve and
Exhausting pangs longing for the beloved that was departed but through this single individual
The stitching of healing began its most needed work through another the sharing of faith and
Trust would create a heart that no longer was held in gloom but pierced the heavenly blue
Where the fair one stood in garments of gleaming white of mist and tranquil portions no longer
Was fate alone in play but joyous music the flute the horn the violin drew a picture of a country
Lane there love was once again completed harmony over arched death itself and it was all
Viewed under the greatest banner men ever knew and it is friendship the telling and knowing of
Tears and a shoulder to cry on it gives way to building blocks that create a different life
Widowhood made agreeable while the wound still remains it is a course changer the injured
Now arises a heroine of quiet silent grace a source of strength a viable counter weight to grief’s
Unbearable character the quill surmounts the littleness in people stories are in abundance that
Show both sides of the issue the abyss that selfishness brings but what heights can be reached
By serving others instead of self weights the quill lifts effortlessly weighty matters the line we
Have come through many slings and arrows fits twists and turns the quill runs before as a lion
Tamer it cracks a whip trouble is quickly vanquished there is writing everywhere the quill will
Guide to so many existing ideas that create formidable answers but with this in play the
Intangible restless pull of something beyond reason that must be recognized and dealt with all
Success and pleasure will melt away as the pull of importance that will not give way most of us
Know the undeniable truth that over all that is said above a greater quill writes in perfect
Accord without error not of fleshly hand but spirit that moved on men to state His wishes and
Commands without this writing no one can know true happiness or fulfillment outside of this
Most extraordinary compelling truth but what record there is of such sadness because of failure
To listen to a love story of tremendous drama all pertaining to the highest highs and the lowest
Lows and of one by love just won’t give up on the ones He holds so dear it comes down to this
Reality it still stands true there is a Hell to shun and a heaven to win through all the swirling
Down through time this great weight rests on us all what we decide will be flames or bliss abide
With him who hates you completely or the one who loved you to the point of dying in agony
You are the only one who can complete the story the quill writes love and mercy sadly so many
Show it has little effect the quill writes on sin is death those who practice it will surely die this is
The second death the lake of fire

This little squirrel Quill
                      He lived over the highest hill -
                                 He pined all day with nuts to collect
                      To protect for long winters.
Quill climbed the tallest
                       trees and still he
                               hid from large eagles till
                       He knew he could safely return home
                                 burrowed in his log.
Mr. Squirrel Senior Quill warned
                       "Don't be long, it's nearly dawn!"
                                  But little Quill amused himself
                         and ate acorns to meet his fill.
He didn't worry or scurry home -
                         He took his time,
                                   He sang a rhyme
                         He made a friend: 'Jerome' the gnome,
                                   He sang and sought a new way home.
Mrs. Squirrel Quill, she drilled and drilled:
                         "Where were you? what happened?!"
                                    Her mother's voice shrill.
                          "I, uh, I was ill!" said Quill, "terrible case
                                    of Squirrel's fill!"
Hiding the nuts, he smiled wide;
                           He was happy, little Quill -
                                    Free and filled.

(C) 6/1/15
Courtney L