[NicknamedBob]

The Dotted i

It was a while ago you know,
That someone crossed a tee,
And as a consequence began,
The process that became a me.

A bit of punctuation, really,
Nothing of immortal consequence,
Punctiliously pointing out the jots,
And tittles in the whence,

By which a record is recorded,
And another page is added, to get ...
Another book for yet another shelf,
That no one's got around to reading yet.

So if you are concerned that history,
Has expectations, and that you have to do it,
Like me, you will have had a humble start,
And your i will soon have gotten a round tuit.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . June 1, 2008

[Soaring Feather]

I see your muse has taken on a whimsical face, thanks for the poem. Very clever!

[Lady Jag]

The Gift of Writing

There is a word in every poem, one that is so hard to write, but if you can write one sentence more. Then the gift is yours to take wherever. It is a gift, to be able to write, and show what you can do. Some write a letter, and they think that's hard. Others write a note, which may seem easy. It is a gift when out comes a story, and from that story, becomes a book, A book that will go on, and on until you write another. Then you will never want to stop Writing is no talent it is a gift, a gift of creation, that only God can give. His greatest creation was Mother Earth, and too us his gift was love. The gift of writing came from him too. When he picked you out and placed the pen in your hand. . sylvia spencer