A POINTED PENCIL
I need a pointed pencil when I leave my computer at home,
For the poems keep on coming even more when I do roam,
Two or three in my purse I keep so when one goes dull,
Out a nice pointed one from somewhere I can always pull.
I’ll try and sharpen a whole pile just in case I may write
Six or seven poems when my mind is burning bright,
Once they were all long with a big eraser at the end,
But they grow shorter and on the eraser I can’t depend.
When I write a lots of poems my points go quickly down,
The writing then goes all thick, my scribble I then disown,
This is the third pencil that I have worked my way through,
I hope there’s another pointy one, or a pencil very new.
Some people would think a pencil a rather paltry gift,
But a bunch of pointed pencils gives my heart a lift,
I think of all the poems that from my pointed pencils flow
As I wait at the clinic or as homeward we then will go.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson January 17, 2003