Blue Pen Haiku

A blue pen lays on my wooden desk.  Its soul is encased in transparent plastic shell.  The tube of thick blue ink is a pipeline for my creativity to flow onto the page.  Imprinting my words into immortal tales.  “What was it like to be human?”  Writing; a mighty force indeed.

Breath captured, by her.

Love rises in a white cloud.

My heart sings her name.

Fingers dance softly,

on lovers skin. Goosebumps.

Must I go to work?

Hot sweet  swirl.  Coffee.

Thick book. Crisp pages.  Author long gone.

As I read, he lives.

Dusty red stone path.

Blue sky.  Cold wind. Summer fades.

Mountain Man walking.

Rusty roof.  Dying old truck.

Young son.  Middle aged dad.

Memories are born.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/mighty/

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