There must be a place ,
an origin for the space ,
One step above a stick and sand .
One of paper and pen in hand
One before the glaring screen
Long before that clicking thing
The subtle scratch of pen on paper
Gave us truth , revealed our maker
The affection when it was held
The value of it to tell
A creation that had a birth
One that grows and shows it's worth
Through the pleasure
When I discover the treasure
Of black ink mating maker
to pure white innocent paper
